


Heartlines

by Junia



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Co-leaders mom and dad, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Sharing a Bed, Slow Burn, grounder!clarke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-31
Updated: 2018-05-09
Packaged: 2019-03-24 19:57:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 58,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13818348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Junia/pseuds/Junia
Summary: He lifts his gaze, clenching his jaw. „Why are you here?“„I‘m here to help you,“ Clarke replies, which has become something like a mantra by now.I am here to help. We are here to help. Help. Help. Help.„No.“ Bellamy shakes his head. „Therealreason. You’re telling me your people want us dead, so why go against them? You don‘t even know us.“Or, the one in which Clarke’s life on the ground was laid out for her: become a healer, save her people and strengthen the alliance of the twelve clans. But one day a ship falls from the sky and everything she has believed in is put into question as she finds herself fighting at the two lines of a war. For survival. And forhim.





	1. Chapter 1

**I / V**

 

Being dragged away, kicking and screaming while hot tears are streaming down her face is one of her first memories on earth.

“Come on, baby,” her mother whispers, tugging at her arm. “We have to hurry.”

Clarke glances over her shoulder to where the scary men were chasing them seconds ago. “Where’s dad?” But she doesn’t get a response. Her mother only tightens the grip around her wrist as they make their way through the thick forest. It’s so dark here, everything looks the same to Clarke and all she wants to do is go back to their tent and sleep in her father’s arms. “Mommy, I want to go to daddy!”

_“Clarke!”_

Her mother’s voice cuts sharply through the air; she must be angry at her. Clarke stops in her tracks, tears burning behind her lids. She wants home, back to her room and to her stuffed animals, back to the living room where her father and her always watch old football. She doesn‘t like this place.

Suddenly she hears her mom gasp in fear and then there’s a firm grip on her arms. Clarke spins around to see the scary men. “Mommy!”

“Please don’t hurt her, she’s just a _child_! Her n-name’s Clarke, she - she is only four years old. _Please_ -”

“Shod op,” the person dressed in a long gown barks.

“I’m sorry,” her mom cries. “It was an accident - we didn’t mean to! He attacked us, he wanted to hurt my daughter! Jake had to -” she shakes her head, desperately looking at her attacker. “ - we had to defend ourselves!“

“Jake,” the stranger repeats and Clarke believes her voice sounds higher than a man‘s one. She’s a woman. “Is this the one who you left behind at your camp?”

Her mother nods, chin trembling.

“Jus Drein Jus Daun,” the woman says, cold. Clarke doesn’t understand, she tries to free herself from the man’s grip and reach out to her mommy but he doesn’t even flinch behind her. “You killed one of our warriors now you have to pay with your blood.”

“It was an accident -”

“Justice must be served, Skyperson.”

Clarke’s mom closes her eyes, whispers, “Please don’t hurt Clarke.”

Everything's silent for a long moment, so silent that Clarke thinks she can hear her heart thunder against her chest.

“Your child will not be harmed,” the woman eventually says before turning around and barking someone to the person holding her. She feels him nod and then he turns around, dragging her along. Panic starts to build in her chest.

“Mom! Mommy, please!” she screams. “Mommy, please don’t let them take me!”

She hears her mother yell something but the person doesn’t stop. “- say goodbye to her, please and -”

“Mommy!” She tries to kick, scratch, bite her way out. He only picks her up and throws her over her shoulder, and Clarke catches one last glimpse of her mother in the distance. “Mom,” she whispers.

“I love you, Clarke. Always remember we loved you!”

She screams until her lung feels on fire, but she screams and she screams and she screams. Eventually she passes out.

Thirteen years later and the memory has become a faded, distant dream that she once had. That is until a ship falls from the sky.

The tribe is on high alert, arranging meetings with the other clan leaders and sending out scouts to check the situation. Everyone has a job to do _except_ Clarke.

“You can’t go with Lincoln,” Anya tells her after she asks for permission.

She scowls, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “Why not?”

“You have to stay here and look after the village.”

“Lidia can do that,” Clarke argues. “Her leg is hurt, she can’t go out anyway.”

It is however not a good enough reason for Anya since she simply shakes her head and proceeds saddling her horse, and that is about it.

Lincoln shoots her an apologetic smile when he passes her to leave with the others.

It is not uncommon for them to allow Clarke fewer duties than the others. She is always the one who gets the tasks that involve the least amount of danger. When she demanded to be trained they refused to do it for a good few months, even though all the other children had already started. She has only ever been outside their village a couple of times, merely allowed to go TonDC or Polis for sacred ceremonies and festivities. At least officially. No one can control her once she sneaks out during the night and goes exploring.

So she does not think much of it when they don’t let her see the ship and the strange people that came with it because it is _normal_.

But then she overhears a conversation between Gustus and Anya. She is arranging the herbs in their healing hut when she hears muffled voices, so she peeks outside.

“- her people,” Gustus says, face warped in concern. “We should at least tell her.”

“We do not know yet,” Anya retorts.

“She came from the sky. They came from the sky. It’s not that hard.”

Their leader shakes her head, arms crossed as she thinks it over. Clarke tries to get in a better hearing distance and presses her eat against the gap that separates the hut from the outside. Who is _she_ ? “Still. Remember what happened with her last _people_? They had no respect for our territory and killed one of our warriors. I doubt these people are any better.”

Something in her stirs. Something that has been sitting in her chest for years now, locked away in a hidden corner of her heart, waiting to be woken.

 _Killed one of our warriors_.

The phrase is simple but triggers something in her memories.

Gustus makes a long pause before he replies. “We have to wait for Lincoln’s report but Anya? Clarke deserves to know.”

And that is more than enough conviction she needs to know that something is terribly wrong and has been all her life. She staggers back from the door and takes a few stuttering breath as her hands shake. _Clarke deserves to know. Clarke, Clarke, Clarke._

She sneaks out that night. Clarke had considered it before, curious about these _new_ people that fell from the sky. However it was too dangerous, even she knew that and despite her curiosity the safety of her and her people was more important.

But now.

It’s different. She has always assumed there was something different about her; from the way her voice sounds like when she talks, to her golden hair and porcelain skin that is a rare occurrence around here. But she figured it was a random thing, not proof for a conspiracy. People are different sometimes, that is how life works. Apparently not this time.

She waits until the moon is shining high up in the sky and sneaks out. It’s a four hour hike to the ship’s crash site; Lincoln told her that when he came back earlier, but Clarke is fast so she can make it in two. He also told her about the people that arrived, kids and teenagers. There are 98 of them.

While she spurts through the thick forest her mind wanders back to the conversation she overheard. Clarke didn’t let herself think about it more than necessary afterwards, planning her trip and listening to Lincoln’s ramblings about the Skypeople. Now however, she has all the time to think about what it means, what _they’re her people_ means and why she was never told. A long forgotten memory seeps into her brain.

“Where’s my mommy?”

The woman, who introduced herself as Kira, placed a pelt around her shoulders and nudged a piece of bread into her tiny hands. “Eat,” she ordered.

“I’m not hungry,” Clarke replied, clenching her tiny hand into a fist and crushing the food until all that remained were crumbles. “I want my mommy and daddy.”

“Your parents will not come back,” Kira told her. “You will be taken care of by us from now on.”

Clarke halts in her steps and closes her eyes, the pain of her four year old self overwhelming her. Her parents died when she was child, killed in a conflict. _That_ was what she was told.

In her tribe parental figures do not play much of a role anyway once the children are assigned to their tasks. The ones who become warriors, the seconds, are much more attached to their leaders than to the people who gave them their life. The healers in training spend all of their time with the healer who is educating them. Nightbloods get sent to Polis and never see their parents again. It is simple, _efficient_ so Clarke never asked about them after that, or asked about her upbringing in general. She remembers now, though, remembers how much it had hurt to hear those words that day.

As planned she arrives about two hours later. Still middle of the night when she sees the light coming from lit torches. There are voices too, sounds of over excited loud teenagers. A huge ship rises into the air behind their walls, it’s exterior a metallic grey with rust all over.

And again, there’s a tingly feeling of familiarity as she stares at it in awe. It looks, feels like she has seen it somewhere already. And if what she heard from Anya and Gustus is right, she _has._

The sudden creaking of a branch makes her jerks around in surprise. She disappears into the shadows before she sees the two people approaching. A tall boy with dark hair and a smaller girl, hair equally dark but longer. They’re talking but she is too far away to hear something.

She has a decision to make. One is to show herself, find out what brought them here and perhaps even discover something about herself even though Anya would probably crush her for it. The other is to walk away. Clarke saw what she needed to see, they are just people like her. She may come from the same place like them but she isn not one of them, she belongs to _her_ people, the ones that raised her. Before she can make that decision, though, a hand closes over her mouth.

Her first instinct is to scream but she knows better than to attract the Skypeople. It turns out it is the right choice since her supposed attacker reveals himself as Lincoln after dragging her a couple feet away. Clarke dusts off dirt from her leg when he starts whisper-yelling at her.

“What the hell are you doing here, Clarke? Anya told you not to go, she forbid -”

“Yeah, Anya told me a lot of things but turns out it’s a load of bullshit,” she cuts him off, crossing her arms. “Did you know?”

Lincoln blinks. “Know what?”

“Where I came from? Did you know?” His expression shifts from confused to guilty and it’s as clear as a day that he was a part of it too. Lincoln, her best friend, the person she considered a _brother_ knew that her whole identity was a big fat lie. “You did,” Clarke states and her voice breaks, her heart falling in her chest.

“Clarke, I - “

“You knew that these are _my_ people who came here, you knew and you said nothing when she did not allow me to come.” Her voice is starting to become dangerously loud and she knows but _fuck_. This hurts. “How could you keep this from me? I understand why they did it, it’s all for the politics but _you!_  You were supposed to be my friend, Lincoln.”

“I _am_ your friend.”

“Are you really? ”

“We should go back,” he deflects, looking around. “They cannot see us.”

“I am not going back,” she decides then and there, too stubborn to move.

Lincoln lets out a sigh, scrubbing a hand across his face. “Be smart, Clarke.”

“I am,” she snaps and takes a step back. “I am not leaving, not yet. I need time to think.”

This answer makes him more content than the previous one although not that happy. They both know Anya will be pissed tomorrow morning when she finds out Clarke isn’t there, but. She has a reason to be pissed too so she will have to get over it.

Lincoln tries to convince her to come back with him some more, does not succeed in that though and leaves eventually. She sighs when he is gone and looks over her shoulder to where the camp is and then. Boom.

Something hard hits her against the back of the head. Clarke stumbles forward but recovers fast enough to see the next punch coming. The guy doesn’t expect it and loses his balance. Her chance. She runs forward, throwing herself at him. They hit the ground.

“I would give up if I were you,” she sneers into his face before decking him. To her surprise he smiles though his teeth smeared with blood that comes from his split lip.

“Funny,” the guy spits. “That’s what I was gonna say.”

Something hits the back of her head again, hard. And her vision fades to black.

A dull ache in her head is the first thing she notices when she blinks her eyes open. The second one is that she is not in the forest anymore and that she is tied to a chair. Fuck. Clarke tries to struggle out of it but with no luck, and of course it steers the attention towards her.

“She’s awake,” someone behind her says and she curses inwardly.

“Then let’s get into it, shall we,” another voice says but this one sounds familiar. She recognizes him as her attacker when he steps in front of her. “Who are you?” he asks.

Clarke ignores the question, knowing full well that any and all information about her clan is too sensible. Trikru is the commander’s clan and anything regarding Heda is sacred. Instead her eyes wander across the room. They’re somewhere with a dim yellow light, there is a seal a couple feet away and some kind of parachute. There are also people, three of them to be exact, and all of them are watching her with hawk eyes. However, Clarke isn’t stupid, she knows what is hiding behind those hard looks. Fear.

The guy in front her makes a step forward and leans down to her. “I’ll ask again,” he says. “Who are you? What do you want?”

 

His courage makes her smirk. “Is it not supposed to be me asking this question?” Clarke chuckles. “ _You_ are the one holding me prisoner, after all.”

His eyes narrow in front of her. Maybe to his people this seems frightening, but Clarke has grown up on the ground, among her people and she knows what true fear is. She does not feel any of it now. They are just a bunch of kids and even though they seem to be about the same age as her, she doesn not feel as young as them, as stupid.

„Was it you?“ he asks her, voice gravelly and she wonders for a second what he means. „Did you kill Dax, Roma and Ingrid?“

It takes her by surprise to hear that some of them were killed. Nobody told her that back in the village but then again there is a lot that she hasn't been told. Before they can see it in her eyes, the surprise, the hurt, she sets up her previous mask. Stone cold expression and an icy smirk when necessary.

„I asked you,“ he repeats loudly, basically yelling in her face, „Did you fucking kill our people? Why did you kill innocent sixteen year old kids?“

Clarke wants to yell back,to scream that she didn‘t kill or even touch any of them. But if she didn‘t one of her people did and that is not any better. So she remains expressionless.

The boy tries for the next hour, asking her about their numbers, their names, their location. Eventually he gets frustrated and one of his friends takes over without avail. The few words she has spoken remain the only ones. She knows even those were a mistake, Clarke should not even have given them the chance to know that she is speaking their language. Trigedaslang was invented for a reason: to protect themselves from enemies like the mountain men. For now, these kids are enemies, too. They should not know.

At some point the main leader, the dark haired boy with aggression problems, disappears in a hole in their ship. They must be upstairs somewhere, she notes. The other two boys, one with a black hat, and the other scrawny one. stay with her - she figures as protection which is funny.

This is the time frame she has been hoping for, though. Clarke could easily take out the two them, the problem is what she would do if she got downstairs. If Lincoln was right and there are 98 people down there, she will have a problem. Even if she is far more skilled than them, a better fighter, she is simply outnumbered.

 _Think_.

She closes her eyes for a moment, takes a deep breath. Ready, set, go.

„Hey,“ she calls and the boy with the hat jerks awake. He looks surprised, startled even to hear her speak. „Your restrains are cutting my skin.“

He scoffs and does not move an inch. „So what, I should take them off then?“

„I am not telling you to let me leave, I merely don‘t want a flesh wound because of your incapability to tie me up,“ she snaps. He stills looks suspicious, but he moves from the wall and she almost smiles. The other boy protests.

„Nate, what are you doing?“

„Relax, Murphy,“ the boy huffs and comes up behind her. „I‘m just taking a look at it.“

When she feels that he is close enough, she lets out a sigh. „You can tell your leader I am ready to talk. I will tell you everything.“

That makes the scrawny boy, Murphy, happy again as he hurries to open the door on the floor, his arms swinging at his sides like she is _really_ going to just give up and disclose secure information. In that split second she strikes. Clarke wiggles out of the shackles, that she has been untying since she came here, grabs the boy‘s collar behind her and rams him into the back of her chair. He lets out a surprised groan and she uses his temporary pain to pull out a knife from her boots and hold it to his throat.

„One movement and you are dead,“ she hisses into his hear from behind. He makes a noise through bared teeth but obeys. The other boy is staring at her in shock, unmoving. The knowledge that any form of willfulness would kill his friend makes him stay silent and submissive, just like a cockroach.

„Move,“ she says and nods to the ladder in front of him. „Go down, slowly. Shield me.“

He gulps but does as she says, meandering down the ladder with one hand in the air and she follows him, her hands gripping the knife and the boy as they carefully step down.

„Anyone move or attempt something and your friend is dead,” she shouts as soon as she is on the bottom level and there are people staring at her. Their chattering halts.

There is absolute silence until the leader shoves his way through the crowd. “You don’t have to kill him,” he says carefully, holding out a hand. She stays silent, her eyes searching for any possible movements. “What do you want?”

“Out,” she bites out. “Let me free and there will be no harm done to your friend.”

“We can’t let you kill us any longer.” He shakes his head and it makes her laugh inside. They really are stupid.

“Fine,” she sneers and presses the tip of the knife into the boy’s neck, just a little but enough for droplets of blood to come out and the boy lets out a grunt. “Then he dies.”

“Bellamy,” someone says behind him, a girl with long dark hair. They were outside talking, Clarke remembers. “You can’t let her kill him!”

He seems to ignore her, holding Clarke’s stare but finally he blinks. “Wait.”

Clarke loosens the grip around the knife. Smart choice.

“We’ll let you go,” he tells her, holding up his hands. “Just leave him first.”

Her smirk vanishes and she stares down at him. “First I leave, then we will see about this -“ She gets cut off by a scream echoing through the ship, even from afar Clarke recognizes the pain in it. “Who - who was that? Who is making this sound?”

Nobody dares to speak, everyone holding their mouth. Even their leader only looks at her with his jaw set shut.

“Who was that?” she repeats, her voice growing angrier.

“Jasper,” the girl from before finally speaks and steps forward, her gaze just as bold as her voice.

“Octavia,” the leader warns her with his hand reaching out but she shakes her head and huffs.

“No, Bell,” she says. “She wants to know it? It’s Jasper, the boy you hit with a spear. He is dying.”

Clarke’s jaw snaps shut and she feels speechless for a moment. There is someone dying and her people are at fault. She knows that because this is Trikru territory and no one, not even Ice Nation or the Mountain Men, dares to defy the commander’s orders. Although this is her chance to leave, the healer inside Clarke cannot bear the thought of letting someone die. Especially not when she is partly to blame.

It is a decision she makes without thinking.

“Let me see him.”

The children around look surprised by that, some of them frown and others take a step back in fear.

“Why?” the girl demands.

“Because,” she snaps. “You said he was dying and I am a healer. So let me see him.”

The leader hesitates but nods eventually and lets the girl, Octavia, bring her to another part of the ship where the boy is lying. The people clear the path immediately, jumping out of her way like she is some monster that is about to devour them. Maybe they really think that, considering how her people apparently treated them. Two minutes ago she was threatening to kill one of them as well so maybe some part of her is a monster.

When she leans down to check the boy, he lets out a delusional groan. He looks horrible and the wound seems to be infected, not surprising since Trikru uses special poison on their spears.

“Where did this happen?” she asks as she cleans the wound with a wet cloth that the girl gives her. She hovers above her before answering.

“At a river,” she says voice thick. “There was a Mount Weather Sign, we wanted to go there but - it looked bad after he got hit. Jasper looked bad.”

“You wanted to go to Mount Weather?”

“Yes,” Octavia says. “They told us there are supplies for us. We were initially supposed to land there, but -” she shrugs. “- we went off course.”

Clarke tries to listen and understand but if she is honest, she doesn’t really get much. Who are they? What supplies? And why the hell would they want to go to the Mountain Men? Instead she focuses on the dying boy.. This is her priority now.

She gives him one of the herbal balms that she always carries in her pockets and hopes it will relieve some of his pain. Octavia brings her some things from time to time, actually useful things that they do not have in the village which she remembers to save for later. There are three boys and a girl standing watch at the corner, probably to protect Octavia from her. Or maybe it has something to with the fact that she threatened the boy. In her defense: Clarke never intended to go through with it. She knew exactly that they would let her go instead of the other choice. The boys acted so brave when they asked her those question, so fearless but in reality all of them are scared. She does not blame them, she was too for a long time.

However, the girl. Octavia. For some reason Clarke does not see the same fear in her eyes.

The leader decides to visit her, after all, and comes in just as aggressive and angry as before.

“The wound is clean now,” she informs him, without looking up from the boy. “And the poison should leave, too, soon. But -”

“The poison?”

Clarke nods and glances up. “From the spear.”

“You put poison on your spears?” He asks, clenching his fists. “Killing us with spears and axes is not enough, you also want to make sure we really die in case you miss?”

His anger is somewhat understandable. Clarke would be furious as well if someone tried to kill Lincoln, or Lidia, or Spargus, but she is trying to help the boy, and all he has to say is how bad of a person she is.,

“I’m _saving_ his life,” she snaps. “Not killing him.”

“Why? Why bother saving him if you tried to kill him in the first place?”

“Bellamy,” Octavia tries but he ignores her.

“No, I want to know why. Are you feeling sorry all of a sudden? Or is this some kind of trick? Is that it?”

“I did not throw that spear,” Clarke says and looks away.

“Then who did?”

“That doesn’t matter for now.” She rises from the her kneeling position and puts the balm back into her pockets. “He will survive the poison, but he needs special weeds for his wound. I need to get them.”

“You won’t go anywhere,” he says, crossing his arms.

Clarke narrows her eyes and steps closer, right into his space. “I could kill you in a second if I wanted to.”

“That’s what you said last time and you still ended up tied to a chair.”

“Last time I didn’t know how stupid you were,” Clarke hisses right into his face and prepares to take a lunge at him when Octavia cuts in.

“Stop! Both of you!”

For a moment, she is still tempted to punch the arrogant look off his face but she decides to let it go and look at the girl instead.

“Bellamy,” Octavia starts with a pointed finger. “She helped Jasper, so it’s clear that she doesn’t want to kill us. And you -” She turns to Clarke. “- excuse our distrust, but three of people have already been killed and then you show up and threaten to slit Miller’s throat in front of everyone. I think it’s fair of us to demand some answers.”

Clarke lets out a breath and steps back, rubbing her forehead. “I’m sorry for earlier, but I only intended to be let go. As for the answers - I can’t tell you anything. I don’t know much myself.”

“That’s a start.” Octavia smiles, shooting the leader a pointed look. “What about your name? My name is Octavia, and this is my brother Bellamy.”

“Clarke. My name is Clarke.”

Bellamy still tries to get some answers out of her, but since the only thing she tells them ist that she is not here to kill or hurt them, they allow to let her go. Clarke would leave either way but she figures it gives them some reassurance to be at least partly in control.

“I will come back with the seaweed,” she tells Octavia and her brother at the exit of their camp. The other children are still giving her fearful looks but that does not bother her.

“I can come with you,” Octavia says. “I could help.”

“Octavia,” Bellamy warns just like the last ten times his sister offered to do something.

“What, Bell? I’m not stupid and she is not dangerous.”

“No, it’s better if I go on my own. I need to -” she stops before saying too much and gulps. “I will come back with the seaweed. And I will try to get a few answers for you. Until then I suggest you stay near your ship. It’s dangerous if you go too far.”

It’s clear that Bellamy does not like this by the way his jaw clenches. Octavia on the other hand gives her a nod. Clarke takes one last look at the camp and then leaves. Home is waiting for her.

x

She has a lot of time to think on the hike back, what to say and what do when she returns but when she walks through the gates and sees Anya standing in front of her, face hard, Clarke is at a loss for words.

She fixes her with a look. “You have returned.”

“I did.”

“Ena?” _And?_

Clarke gulps, worrying her lip. The air between them is filled with thick tension. “Ai gaf chich yu. With you and the elders.” _I need to talk to you_.

Anya nods and turns around, leaving to gather the people. It will take tike, so Clarke is left standing in the middle of the village until then, not sure what to do.

“Heya,” she hears and turns around to see Lincoln, giving her a small smile.

“Hi.” Clarke’s voice sounds tired, probably because she has seen more in a day than she did in the last five years combined.

Lincoln notices and nods to the cabin where he sleeps in. As soon as they enter it she lets herself plop on his thin bed, burying her head in her hands. For a few minutes he does not say anything, lets her the time to rest, but eventually he speaks up.

“I’m sorry, Clarke.”

She does not look up, only sighs into the sheets. All day she did not even think about what it means, the information she has discovered. Back when she was fighting with Lincoln, she even called them her people, and when she was with them…. they didn’t feel like her people.

“I don’t know what to feel,” Clarke admits quietly and turns around to face him. “I grew up here.. I grew up with you and the others and now I find out that there are other people. People that are supposed to be my people. What am I supposed to do?”

“I think you should hear what Anya and the elders say,” he tells her and gives her a reassuring nod.

“And what if I don’t like what they have to say?”

“Odop.” Wait. “Take your time and then do what you choose to be right.”

Clarke smiles a little. Since their childhood Lincoln has always been the quiet one, but once she got to really know him, she recognized the rebellious force behind the calm exterior. The passion with which he did the things he liked. The compassion for the people he loved. The resilience.

The door opens and Maui, one of the elders, steps in. “Mafta ai op.” _Follow me._

Clarke follows her to the basement that they use for war strategies, gatherings and other occasions. Downstairs, ten people are already seated. Their eyes landing on her as soon as she sits down at the end of the table. She has to swallow down the anxiety that suddenly stirs up in her stomach. A long time ago she used to feel like that on the daily, scared of the world, but since then she has overcome the fear and the worries. It is strange to feel like this again.

“We are gathered here on your request, Clarke,” Anya begins and looks at everyone at the table individually. Clarke knows that Anya actually detests holding public speeches. She is a warrior, in and out, but Clarke has to let her that she is still good at it. “Among others, we have to discuss the fate of the Sky people and the problems that have arisen since then.”

“Hola au, gada,” Maui says and sends her a warm smile. _Speak up, girl._ Even though she hates it when they call her ‘gada’ instead of saying her name.

Clarke takes a deep breath and presses her palms together, that are trembling slightly. “I have come by the information that my parents, um - they were from the sky. Which means I am one of them, as well. Ai laik Skaikru.” I am Skaikru.

“You laik ai kru, Clarke,” Anya says. _You are my people_. “Ai laik Trigeda.” _And I’m trikru._

“I know, I mean -” she sighs, “I feel home here, too but you lied to me. You lied about my parents, you lied about who I am and now I do not know what I am anymore. Trikru, skaikru… I don’t know where I belong.”

“Tell me child,” Ergus says all of a sudden and fixes her with a questioning gaze. “What would you have done if we had told you about your upbringing? Gone back into the sky? Dig out the bones of your dead parents?” Something pulls at her heart when he says that. “It would have made no difference.”

Clarke’s hands turn into fists under the table and she holds his mocking gaze. “That was for _me_ to decide! You took that decision away.”

“All we did was spare you from questionable feelings. Ergus is right,” Anya says dryly and Clarke has bite down on her jaw for a second, she wants to scream.

“Those were my _parents_ ,” she exclaims and looks around frantically. “My family and you lied to me about them my whole life! How could you do this?”

Ergus holds up his hand, a sign for her to shut up which she bitterly does. “My parents died in the war kom Azgeda. Do you see me wasting tears on them?”

It’s useless. It’s completely, fucking useless because they don’t understand the concept of a family. Even though she doesn’t remember ever having one, Clarke remembers the feeling. The feeling of being safe and warm and she will never forget how that felt like.

“What happened to them?”

“Clarke,” Anya says but Clarke’s fist lands on the table. “Tell me what happened to my parents!”

“They’re dead,” Ergus barks, even having the nerve to smirk at her. “That is all you need to know.”

 _Fuck you_ , she thinks. _Fuck all of you._

Esta clears her voice, she is not one of the elders but has a lot of power around here. “Now that this cleared up, we need to talk about the intruders.”

Another thing that pisses her off. Everything is treated quickly and efficiently because people seem to be subjects around here and not actual living beings. Giving her breadcrumbs and not a single apology is apparently enough for them. But not for her.

„Heda is waiting for a report on the situation,“ Indra, the war chief, says into the round.

„Our scouts say there are 95 of them. Children, young people. Easy to kill,“ Anya states.

There are few murmurs in the room, different opinions clashing together. Clarke sure as hell knows which side she is on.

„You can‘t just kill them,“ she says. „You said it: they are _kids_.“

Ergus scoffs. „So? They are in our territory. Our land.“

„They‘re young, dumb and careless,“ Indra adds coldly.

Clarke shakes her head. “This is wrong. You cannot kill them.”

Anya looks up and narrows her eyes. “When people come from the sky like this,” she starts, holding her gaze. “All they do is wreck havoc and cause pain and suffering. You have to understand this, Clarke. They are not like us.”

“ _I_ am not like you,” she whispers, tears burning in her eyes. “And I didn’t cause - cause pain and suffering.”

“Because you’re Trikru.”

“I -”

“They are a threat to the coalition,” Indra continues, not giving a damn about what Clarke has just said. “What if there are more of them? That could cause even more problems.”

“It is clear what the opinion is: The sky people are not welcomed in our lands,” Anya concludes, sparing Clarke one brief glance. Maybe it is something like an apology in her own way but it’s too late and certainly not enough. She jumps up and hurries out of the basement, walking as fast as she can to her tent.

Some clothing, gear, her journal. These are the things she packs in her ratty sac. Oh, and the seaweed. She mustn't forget the seaweed for the boy. As she turns around Clarke almost runs into Lincoln who shoots her a worried look.

“Chit don kom au?” _What happened?_

“They are what happened,” she presses out and pushes past him to go to their healing station. As expected Lincoln follows her, trying to keep up with her pace.

“I take that it did not go well.”

“No,” she yells before remembering to keep her voice down. Some people are already staring at her. “They - they disregarded what I had to say, Lincoln. Ergus even made a mockery out of it! That was my family and they didn’t even tell me how they died! And now - now they want to kill these children. I - I can’t let that happen.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Warn them,” she says, cramming as much seaweed as possible into her sac before glancing at Lincoln. “They’re kids, Lincoln. Just like me or Lidia. I can’t just sit here and watch them die.”

He nods, understanding where she comes from because he has the same heart as her. They are similar when it comes to war and killing. “You know that Anya will be pissed, right?”

“Counting on it,” she huffs.

“She will perhaps even banish you,” he says carefully, looking at her.

Clarke smiles a little, it’s sad and bitter. “I know.”

For a moment she thinks that he will try to convince otherwise but he doesn’t. It looks like he lets it go through his and then suddenly he says, “Then let’s go.”

She raises a surprised brow. “Let’s go as in we? You’re coming with me?”

“Yes.”

“Lincoln, she will banish you, too! I don’t want that for you just because -”

“Clarke,” he smiles down at her and touches her shoulder. “I am against killing kids as much as you. This is what I choose.”

Clarke doesn’t realize how afraid she was of this choice until he says these words and lifts a huge weight off her chest. She doesn’t have to do it alone. Together they go to the stable where they keep their horses, trying not to attract any attention, and saddle them faster than they probably have ever done before. Before she realizes it, it is time to say goodbye to the village she grew up in, the village she rarely left. It is a bit hard to turn around and let it behind her, knowing that it might as well be the last time she sees it, but she turns around leaves.

She has a mission. The mission to save her people.

x

It is night when they arrive at the ship, the moon shining peacefully above their heads. The reality? Not that peaceful. As soon as they get close to the main gates, she jumps off the horse and holds up her hands so that the guards know she is not a threat. She is here to help.

“I’m Clarke,” she calls when nobody moves or says anything. “I was here before.”

Finally she hears movements inside the wall, people murmuring and walking back and forth, meanwhile Lincoln gets off his horse as well and mimics her posture. On the ride here, she has told him about what she had encountered here, about the people’s behaviour and what they are like. Mostly he stayed silent, so she figured that he would make a picture of them himself.

“Opening the gate,” someone shouts and eventually the leader, Bellamy comes out. His expression is less aggressive, more put together but still hesitant. He immediately wraps his hand around the gun in his waistband upon seeing Lincoln.

“Hey, it's okay,” Clarke cuts in. “This is Lincoln, he is a friend and a warrior from my clan. We are here to help and bring a message.”

“A message?” Bellamy echoes but eases the grip on the weapon.

Clarke hesitantly looks at Lincoln who returns the look. “More or less,” she says, glancing back to the boy. “It’s important. You should hear it out.”

There is still reluctancy in his eyes, a lot of it but he nods and nudges his head to their camp, signaling that they should come inside. Since he didn’t say anything about the horses Clarke figures it’s best to take them inside in case any of the scouts appear tonight. The horses would betray them immediately.

“Horses!” some kids let out excitedly and run over to pet them. It’s strange but simultaneously delightful to watch them get so excited about animals. Clarke smiles to herself on the way inside the ship.

“So,” Bellamy shrugs as soon as they gather together with some of the other people. “What message are you bringing?”

Clarke scratches her forehead, knowing full well that the news will not be taken well. Especially not by someone as hot headed as this guy. “Our clan - the people in it are angry because you invaded our territory,” she says slowly and bites her lip. “They are waiting to hear from the commander, but it is safe to say that there will be a kill order on you in a few day. On all of you.”

“A kill order?” The boy she threatened to kill says, she believes his name is Miller.

“Yes,” Lincoln nods and she is thankful that she is not alone in this. “They plan to kill you all. Either by an attack, starvation or maybe a virus, we don’t know yet.”

Bellamy lets out an angry huff. “And you’re here to what? Warn us?”

“Yes. This is serious. You need to do something unless you want all to get killed.”

“The commander’s word is taken very seriously here,” Lincoln agrees.

“Why?” someone else asks. “Why are you doing this? When we landed here - they didn’t even ask us if we wanted to go to the ground. They just sent us here to die and now you’re telling us the people here want us to die as well?”

“Monty is right,” a girl with blonde hair exclaims. “We didn’t know people were alive or whose territory we landed in.”

“I understand that,” Clarke tries to say but more and more voices cut in, more and more of these kids argue. The things is that she does, she understands it. She just can’t change anything about it.

“We deserve a chance to live!”

“Grounders can fuck themselves”

“Everyone shut up!” Bellamy suddenly shouts into the crowd and it goes silent at once. “I know this is hard but we have to keep our heads cool.” He turns back to Clarke, raising a brow. “What are we supposed to do? Leave, fight back, let them kill us?”

He is asking her questions that she cannot answer, does not know how to and it makes her feel stupid and helpless. “I - I don’t know,” she says, shaking her head.

“Calm down your people,” Lincoln offers then. “Then we can discuss the options.”

After hours and hours of discussions and plans they decide to call it a night and get some rest. Sleep is an important key of survival, after all. Some of the kids sleep inside the ship, while others have their own tents. Clarke spreads her sleeping mat somewhere on the edge of the forest, observing the scenery. She does not understand it, how it all works around here but she would like to find out someday.

When she says good night to Lincoln and finally wraps the blanket around her, her exhaustion is suddenly gone. The whole ride here she was almost falling asleep and now she fucking doesn’t want to anymore. Typical. She stirs and turns but gives up after twenty minutes; all that has happened, all the worries and the fear are getting to her head right now.

Clarke sits up with a sigh and decides to go to the fire in the middle of the camp, sparks flying high into the air. Everybody else is asleep except for the couple of kids that are watching the wall. She sits down on a log and looks into the fire, hoping to get some answers from it. It’s stupid but helps.

Suddenly a branch cracks behind her and she swirls around, her hand already reaching for the knife in her boots.

“Easy. It’s just me.”

She lets out a breath of relief when she sees that it’s Bellamy. Turning back to the fire Clarke tucks away the knife.

“Can’t sleep?” he asks as he sits down on a log a bit far away from her, keeping his distance which she doesn’t mind.

“No.” She isn’t in the mood to talk so she doesn’t elaborate, just continues staring into the flames and warming herself up. Minutes pass and for some reason she speaks, “This is the first time I’m sleeping somewhere other than my village.”

Bellamy doesn’t answer immediately although she feels him muster her. “Yeah,” he says eventually. “First nights are the hardest.”

They are indeed.

“I am sorry for the people you have lost.“

He lifts his gaze and he clenches his jaw. „Why are you here?“

„I‘m here to help you,“ Clarke replies. By now it has become her mantra. _I am here to help. We are here to help. Help. Help. Help._

„No.“ Bellamy shakes his head. „The _real_ reason. You’re telling me your people want us dead, so why go against them? You don‘t even know us.“

For some inexplicable reason his question and accusation make her bite down on her teeth. She feels her face flush. All the others have been civil to Clarke and Lincoln after they came here to save them, everyone except him. Many of the Skypeople still look at her with something like fear in their eyes, but Bellamy treats her like the enemy.

She exhales and tries to sound unaffected. „Haven‘t your people ever done something that you didn‘t agree with?

A muscle in his jaw twitches, and he looks away quickly. „Hundreds of times.“ He picks up a small branch and throws it into the fire.

„So you understand,“ Clarke says, standing up. „I do not need to know you to recognize that it is wrong to slaughter you.“

Enough said, she thinks, even though she hears him mutter „how noble of you“ as she goes back to her sleeping mat. Clarke rolls her eyes. Bellamy will be a piece of work. All of this will be.

x

„We should try to negotiate with Anya,“ Lincoln says into the round. „Before we do anything else.“

Clarde nods but the others remain looking skeptical.

„How are we supposed to negotiate with people that killed some of us without even blinking?“ Murphy asks with a raised brow.

„If we ask them they have to hear us out,“ she retorts. _Even though they are most likely to get banished for it, or worse._

„And how are you planning to convince them?“

She looks at Bellamy first who asked the question and then at Lincoln next to her. „There are ways. You must have something to give them in return.“

„Like what?“

„You‘re from the sky,“ she says. „You came here with a ship that was flying. I guess you also have weapons… that are more advanced?” Although her people are inherently against mechanic weapons and advanced technology Clarke knows that those can be used against other enemies, which Trikru and the other clans definitely have.

“Not only weapons but also other things. Healing. Knowledge.Tech,” Lincoln adds, nodding.

“Trust me,” Miller huffs, crossing his arms. “If we had weapon we wouldn’t be dying out here. All we have is Bellamy’s gun and like three bullets left.”

Clarke curses mentally and lets out a sigh.

“We can get weapons,” Bellamy suddenly says. “Or at least I know who has weapons. Lots of em.”

Murphy raises his brows next to him while Clarke watches them in confusion. Being in the dark isn’t one of her favorite things.. “I thought we didn’t want them to come downstairs? We took our bracelets off!”

“We need the guns,” he shrugs. “I’m not fond of the idea either but if that’s what it takes to survive down here.”

“What idea?” she finally snaps and Bellamy looks at her, his expression thoughtful.

“Our people. From the sky.”

“So there are more of you,” Lincoln notes.

They discuss it among each other and eventually Bellamy orders to bring him someone called Monty because he can help them. It’s good, it’s progress but she worries it will take too long and they don’t have a lot of time. If, and that’s a big if, they somehow get their people down here, the grounders will have long attacked by then and it won’t be easy to convince them that they are valuable without any proof.

Clarke is outside the ship, observing the trees when she feels someone watching her. It’s a boy with dark skin and a curious look in his eyes.

“What?” she snaps, fearing that it’s just another person that is scared of her.

“You are the grounder, right?”

She nods warily.

“You - you remind me of someone,” he tells her, blinking. “Someone I used to know once.”

A strange feeling overcomes her and her brows furrow. “You mean in the sky?”

“Yeah. It’s probably nothing but…,” his voice trails off and coughs awkwardly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to bother you.”

“No, it’s okay.” She gives him an awkward smiles when somebody calls her name. Clarke leaves but the strange feeling remains.

The news are bad. The guy, Monty, isn’t able to establish contact without having a radio which they do not possess. Clarke does not understand a lot of the details but she gets the gist: no people, no weapons and thus no treaty with Trikru.

Bellamy barks out some orders but stays glaring at the desk in front of him, his hands clasping the edges until his knuckles turn white. The time is probably not the best to bother him but she doesn not see Octavia anywhere, hasn’t seen since yesterday actually, so she carefully taps his shoulder.

“Can I ask you something?”

He furrows his brows, glancing at her which she takes as a yes. “Who is that boy over there?” Clarke nudges her head towards the main exit where the guy that talked to her before is picking up bottles.

“Wells?” Bellamy asks, suddenly mildly amused. “You mean the prince?”

  
Clarke frowns, confused. “What do you mean the prince? You had a king?”

“No, we didn’t,” he chuckles, looking away. “But something like that. He was the chancellor’s son so pretty similar to a prince.”

“Chancellor?” she echoes, cocking her head. Seriously, sometimes she feels like they are talking another language.

“Leader. He was the person in charge. You said something about a, uh, commander? That’s the same.”

“Yes, Heda,” she agrees, thinking. “You talk about the chancellor in the past. Is he dead?”

There’s a flicker of fear in his eyes, something that is gone as soon as it came. But he hides it by straightening his posture and looking down at her with a careless shrug. “Why do you care suddenly? And what’s your deal with Wells?”

“I’m just curious,” she defends herself and scratches her cheek. “Do you know if he had any friends in the sky? Friends that left?”

By the dumbfounded expression on Bellamy’s face, Clarke figures that he doesn’t know and that he probably thinks she is a bit crazy. “Ask him yourself,” he says and turns to leave. “I’ve got more important shit to do than this.”

Clarke spends the rest of the day checking on the boy, Jasper who thankfully hasn’t died yet, and worrying about the plan. The plan that they don’t even have. Monty, his friend, comes by from time to time and she exchanges a few words with him, Octavia and Lincoln helps her out as well. The two have been suspiciously friendly, she notes absently as they talk about something next to her.

Slowly she starts making a picture of the Skypeople: they’re all pretty young, mostly her age, except Bellamy who is older for some reason. They are loud and cheery and seem not to care about the kill order on them. However, most of them also seem very nice and forgive her easily.

Miller for example even cracks a few jokes with her. Although Jokes that she does not understand.

There is this other guy, she thinks his name is Finn. He brings her more seaweed for Jasper which she finds very helpful. And he talks a lot which she finds less helpful, a bit annoying even.

Bellamy holes up in the upper floor of the ship. Clarke assumes that he tries to come up with a solution to find a way to save his people because she does too, all day long. Of course the thought of leaving has crossed her mind. But there are several problems: there’s Jasper for one who can’t even speak let alone walk. Anya and the warriors could see them on the way, and there’s of course the biggest problem of all: wherever they head, they will intrude someone else’s territory. The land of the thirteen clans stretches out across thousands of miles. It would take months before they got out of the commander’s area, if they even survived that long. And the other clans aren’t nearly as civil as Trikru.

So what can they do?

Suddenly she hears shouting from the outside and Clarke jumps up and hurries outside. A crowd has gathered and in the centre of it is Bellamy. Funny, she didn’t notice him leaving.

“This it,” he says and holds up long sticks or something like that. “This is how they will know we are alive.”

“You sure they will see it from up there?” Miller frowns next to him.

“It says they can reach up to 6 miles high. Let’s hope it does.”

They gather outside their walls, which Clarke finds dangerous but it’s not like she can do anything about it, and they light their sticks until they blast off into the sky, exploding into thousands of colorful lights up there. Clarke doesn’t believe she has ever watched something as beautiful. Strangely enough the feeling from before comes up, it pulls at her heart and she has to close her eyes for a moment.

“Is this how it felt when you came down here?” she asks, not even aware who is standing next to her. They’re all from the sky, they all know the answer. Unless it’s Lincoln but she is pretty sure she saw him standing at the front next to Octavia.

When she risks a look to her side, she notes with a sigh that it’s Bellamy. Of course it’s Bellamy. But to her surprise he doesn’t give her any dumb looks, he just glances at her briefly and there is that look in his eyes again. That look from before.

“Yeah,” he murmurs. “I guess it did.”

Clarke watches the last fire disappear in the forest and she wonders. She wonders if she flared like that when she came here with her parents.

x

“So what do you think?”

Lincoln furrows his brows as he walks next to her, making his I am thinking face. “I think that if we don’t come up with a solid plan soon they will be dead, and so will we.”

She huffs out a small laughter, appreciates that he still uses humour even in times like these. “But they’re worth fighting for, right?” He looks at her. “Worth being banished for?” This question has been plaguing her ever since she turned her back on her own people, so perhaps this is her way to find some reassurance.

“Yes. Every human being is.”

It stills the doubts in her mind which she likes to ignore because they make her feel bad. In the end, it’s that actions that matter though, right?

Lincoln and Clarke reach the river to get them cleaned up. It’s their habit to wash themselves while the other keeps watch and back then they used to do it every other day. Now it’s already night, though, and when Clarke steps in the water it’s ice cold. It doesn’t bother her, bathing in winter toughened her up enough to go swimming even in the coldest of waters.

She steps into the river and starts rubbing the dirt from her limbs when she hears a noise behind her.

“Lincoln?” Clarke says, turning around, but he is gone. Her heart starts hammering as she looks around her, calling his name again. All of a sudden someone pushes her from behind and she gets thrown face first into the water. After a few horrible seconds where she struggles to get some air, a hand grabs her by the neck and turns her around forcefully.

“Anya,” she gasps with her hands around her neck, but instead of a greeting Anya’s fist hits her in the nose.

“You ungrateful little girl,” Anya spits, grabbing her face and pulling her close. “We took you in, provided you with food and a shelter and you betray us like that.” She lets go of her face and Clarke wheezes for air, her lungs feeling on fire.

“I - I’m sorry,” Clarke tries to whisper but the anger in Anya’s eyes only intensifies.

“You and Lincoln should be.”

Everything inside her hurts and she doesn’t know if it’s because of the fall, Anya or because of the words being spit at her. Clarke shakes her head, trying to hold in her tears because _warriors don’t cry_ , that’s what Anya always used to say after a particular hard training session. “Anya, you have to un - understand. They’re just children -”

“Children,” Anya says and narrows her eyes, “Who burned down a whole village with their rockets.”

Her breath catches as she regards the woman on top of her. “What?”

“Your missiles burned down a village.” After getting up Anya stabs an accusing finger at her. “And you and Lincoln helped them.”

“No, no,” she tries to say but Anya starts walking away. “No, we tried to inform their people that they - they are alive. It was good! We didn’t k-know!”

“You’re living with the enemy, Clarke! You’re helping them kill our people - your people and now you want more of them to come?”

“They can help us! Bring down the Mountain and help us with healing!” Gathering her strength she manages to get up albeit on shaky feet, running after Anya. Clarke grabs her shoulder and yells, “No, you have to listen! You can’t kill them!”

She should have known this was not a good idea. Anya pushes her against a tree and whips out a knife, holding it to her throat. “Do not touch me, Clarke.”

“Please,” she pleads, ignoring the knife and the anger. “Don’t kill them.”

Seconds pass in which Anya regards her with so much hatred in her eyes that Clarke feels like she sould be dead. “It is not your place anymore to make this plead. You are Trikru no more.”

Clarke lets out a painful sound, a tear rolling down her face when Lincoln appears behind Anya and pulls her away. “That’s enough,” he shouts. His black eye tells her that he just got the same treatment.

“It’s enough when I say it is,” Anya barks. “The same applies to you, Lincoln. You are banished.” Then she turns around and vanishes in the darkness of the forest.

Clarke clutches her chest, feeling like someone just gutted her.

She understands why her people used these harsh methods to survive after the bombs, during the war and before peace. But now - there must be _more_ than impossible decisions and a tragic end just    to ensure their survival. Don’t they deserve better than that? Saving these kids from being helplessly slaughtered was a step into the right direction, that was what Clarke thought when she went and rebelled. Her people don’t understand, though. To them she is just a traitor and the Skypeople are all going to die anyway.

The walk back is silent. Before they go through the gates Lincoln asks her if she is okay and she nods because maybe if she acts like it it will become real. After all, she knew what was coming. She did.

Clarke intends to go straight to her sleeping place, not in the mood for food or conversations or plans that will not work out. Lincoln can inform the others about what Anya said. Or did.

“Hey.”

It’s Bellamy’s voice so she tries to wave him off but suddenly his hand wraps around her wrist, making her turn around.

“What?” she snaps.

His gaze wanders across her face, a bit stunned. „You‘re hurt.“ It‘s humiliating to be seen like that, a bloody lip, swollen eye. She is supposed to be strong, the one who helps and heals them and now she is the one in need of help. She is weak.

„It‘s nothing,“ Clarke mutters and turns around, freeing her wrist.

„Obviously it‘s not.“ To her disappointment he jogs up to her and walks along which she finds irritating. „Your whole face is bloody, you look like shit.”

„Then don’t look at me if it‘s bothering you.“

“It’s not - uh, Lincoln told us what happened and -“

“And now you want to make fun of me?” She exclaims sitting down on her sleeping mat. „I already know that you don‘t trust me, there‘s no need to rub it in my face, okay?“

He frown looking down at her. „I wasn‘t going to make fun of you. I, um, I actually wanted to ask if you‘re okay.“

„If I‘m okay?“ Clarke echoes, raising her brows. He picked the wrong time to joke around with her.

„Yeah.“ Bellamy coughs awkwardly before scratching his head. „You stood up for us and went against your own people. I think that‘s enough proof that you‘re with us.“

Now it‘s her turn to frown because it almost sounds like he is saying that he trusts her. There are lot of things she expected to hear from him but this is none of them.

„It is?“

„It is,“ he nods and kneels down in front of her. „Come on, you should really let someone treat your face.“

„It‘s really not that bad,“ she tries to argue.

„Yeah, but it looks fucked up. You can‘t let yourself be seen like that.“

Clarke laughs dryly and lets out a tired sigh. “Okay. I need a strong drink, you have those here?”

“You mean alcohol?”

She nods.

“Monty’s moonshine will do.” Bellamy smirks standing up. “Anything else?”

“A cloth. Oh, and something cold if you have that.”

He wanders off to get her the things, leaving her wondering what the hell just happened. He was nice to her, and not his usual asshole self. He comes back a couple of minutes later, holding two rusty bottles and a cloth in his hands. Clarke’s hand immediately reaches out and Bellamy gives her the utensils, watching as she soaks the cloth in the alcohol before rubbing it over the parts of her face that hurt the most.

“You’re cleaning the wrong spots,” he tells her after a few seconds which makes her halt and frown in confusion.

“But that’s where it hurts.”

“The wounds are a bit more right, though.” Clarke moves it to the right but Bellamy only shakes his head in annoyance. “No, no, a bit down and - no, you know what? Just give it to me.” Clarke hesitates, her fingers gripping around the wet cloth as he holds out his hand expectantly. Ultimately she gives it to him with a puff of breath.

Bellamy takes it and rubs it on different parts of her face that start to burn when he touches them, but she swallows it down and remains completely still. After a few minutes he regards her with a satisfied expression and nods.

“Much better.”

Clarke presses her lips together and gives him a tired smile. “Thank you, Bellamy.”

“No big deal.” He hands her the other, cold bottle which she presses against her eye, relishing in the relief of pressure it provides. “You feeling better now?”

“I’ve just started cooling it,” she says, prim. “Healing doesn’t work that fast.”

Bellamy rolls his eyes. “I meant emotionally.”

A fresh wave of anxiety washes over her, and she has to close her eyes. For a few moments there she almost forgot what happened, but now it’s replaying in her head all over again. The anger in Anya’s words. Her disappointment. The way Lincoln and her were called traitors. The banishment. “I didn’t do anything,” Clarke murmurs, staring at the branch under her shoe. “She told me they will attack and I didn’t convince her otherwise. I failed.”

“You got your ass kicked for us,” Bellamy says with something like awe in his words and her gaze lifts from the ground to his eyes. “You stood up for us against your own people. That’s not nothing, Clarke. That’s more than anyone has ever given us on since we landed here.”

“But - but I failed. They will attack.” It doesn’t make sense. The way he says it sounds like she was victorious, but that is not what happened. The opposite happened. Trikru will attack and slaughter them.

“Well, yeah,” he nods, making a funny face. “We still have to deal with that but we got this.”

Clarke doubts any of their ideas are actually good enough to avoid or survive an attack of the Commander’s clan. However, right now she is exhausted and hurting and the only thing on her mind is sleep. So she gives him a small nod and leans back on her hands. “Okay.”

Taking it as a sign Bellamy stands up and turns to leave but for some reason he turns back around and shoots her a look, that she would almost describe as soft. “My people killed my mother and made my sister a walking crime for simply being alive. I get how it feels like to be disappointed by the people that were supposed to protect you.”

It stuns her for a moment. She opens her mouth to say something when a thunderous noise in the sky makes her gaze snap up. And there it is. A ship. Another ship that comes crashing down.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you may have noticed the chapter number changed from 4 to 5. That's because this chapter turned out to be a huge monster and I would have bombarded you with - no shit - 20k words, so I had to split it up. Enjoy!

**II / V**

 

The camp gets thrown into a huge turmoil for the next hour. The people wonder whether their families and friends were on the ship, perhaps reinforcements. Guessing is useless so Bellamy organizes a search party consisting of him, Miller, Monroe, Lincoln and Clarke. After an argument and Octavia bitching a lot he lets her come as well.

They leave not more than an hour after its arrival, hoping to get there sooner before Trikru does. If they don’t they will be facing an even bigger problem than they do now.

It’s a little sweet because Clarke sees Miller smile for the first time since she has known him. He speculates that his father may be on it. It’s nice to see something other than fear and survival instinct in their eyes. 

It takes them two hours but eventually they find it. The ship landed in the middle of Trikru territory, next to a lake with a small waterfall that laps against rocks, remind Clarke how much she enjoys nature and all its wildlife. It's small, too small for large numbers of people. When Bellamy rips out the door, there is only one person inside. A girl, brown tousled hair in high a ponytail and a line of blood streaming down her face.

“Hey,” Clarke says, gently shaking her awake after they let her through to take a look at her wounds which do not seem to be emergent. The girl stirs after the fourth shake, her eyes slowly blinking open as she looks up into Clarke’s face.

“Hello,” she mumbles, a bit dazed before she blinks and does a double take on her surroundings. In a moment she snaps awake. “I - I made it. I’m on earth, aren’t I? I’m on earth?”

“You are,” Bellamy nods next to her. “You’re from the ark, right?”

“Yeah,” the girl nods with excitement. She jumps up from her seat and climbs out of the ship, her gaze landing on the scenery in front of her, around her, behind her. She stretches out her arms and lets out a happy yelp. “I’m alive, motherfuckers!”

Clarke smiles a little (although she does not really understand the term she shouts into the sky). The others in amusement as well, letting her take the couple of moments before having to break the bad news to her. Earth is not as simple as she probably thinks it is.

“You’re the hundred,” the girl exclaims with a smile after her arms drop and she swirls around to them. “I knew you were alive and not dead!” Suddenly her face falls. “Oh my god. The culling. They’re doing it tonight. We have to let them know that earth is survivable!”

 

x

 

“Are you ok?”

Clarke forces her gaze away from the big brown tent and looks at Lincoln who has crossed his arms and is regarding her with that look when he is worried about her. “Sha.” A sigh comes out of her and she lets her look wander back to the tent. “They’ve been heading in and out of this tent for three days now. I don’t know how much time we have left until they come.”

“I know. I’m surprised they haven’t attacked yet,” Lincoln says, wrinkles appearing above his brows.

“Surprise effect,” Clarke murmurs and touches her temple. “I feel so useless. I cannot do anything for them because I’m not even one of them. They probably haven’t even told their leader that we are here considering that it's our clan that is planning to kill them. And I cannot do anything about that either.”

“You worry too much.” Lincoln’s big hand lands on her shoulder, squeezing.

“I happen to worry the perfect amount for this situation.”

  
“We’ve come this far,” he says.

“A week.”

“That’s a lot.”

“Maybe you worry too little,” Clarke tells him with a light grin. “Too busy with Octavia.”

He leaves her alone after that but the smile remains on her lips because it’s sweet. 

A lot happened in the last three days, progress and changes have been made. Then again, not enough. After Raven came down - the girl in the ship - the kids managed to establish contact with their people in the sky. They told them that earth is inhabitable and safe, but also that there are other threats, like the grounder clan who is bent on killing them. The people in the sky immediately started making preparations to come down and since then the kids were reconnecting with their families and friends through something called a webcam. Clarke does not know what it is because she has not been in the tent herself, but she sees the way the kids walk out a little bit happier so it must be a good thing.

The rest of the sky people coming down means that they can try to negotiate with Trikru after all since they are about to have a lot more power and resources in their hands. However, Clarke and Lincoln aren’t really sure about the right time to evoke these negotiations. The longer they wait, the more likely an attack will happen, but then again it is not wise to offer something they do not possess yet. Things could go wrong and in the end they would stand there with nothing. So yes, finding the right time is not easy.

Clarke finally manages to walk away from the spot she has been occupying for the last hour and goes to the ship to check on Jasper who has woken up a day ago. His recovery is happening too slow for her liking but she figures it’s a miracle that he is even alive. Surviving a spear with poison on it is not something that occurs often.

“Sup doc,” Jasper greets her with a small wave and a tired smile.

“How are you feeling?”

“Better than I did a week ago.”

She smiles and examines the wound on his stomach. The infection has almost retreated entirely and it seems like the skin is growing back together. This is good. "I bet. Any fever, pain or sickness?”

“Nope, nope and nope,” he replies, shaking his head. “Can I get out now?”

“No.” He makes a face. “I’m sorry but I would not advise it yet. You still have some recovering to do.”

“Yeah, I can already see myself tied to the bed while everyone is out there fighting those stupid grounders.” He realizes what he has said and opens his mouth, stuttering out apologies. “I mean - I - I’m sorry, I didn’t meant to - you’re not stupid!”

“It’s fine,” Clarke shrugs and gives him a smile. “Those people that attacked you _are_ stupid. I’m sorry for that by the way.”

Before he can say anything else, someone taps her shoulder. It's Bellamy.

“Is he getting any better?” he asks, walking outside with her where the people are working on making the camp safer.

“Much better, actually.” Clarke scratches her cheek. “I would say he will be able to walk around again in a week.”

“Well, it better be fast because he needs to be able to defend himself when they attack.” It takes her a little by surprise. In the past few days there wasn’t much talk about it, only reporting to their people and exchanging information. It had Clarke a bit worried that they forgot about it so soon. “Don’t look at me like that,” he says with a pointed look. “I know you’ve been thinking the same. At some point they will make a move.”

“You’re right,” she admits.

“Yeah, but we got something. I was told there is a bunker somewhere nearby, apparently has guns, food and other shit that we could use. Maybe we could even live there if it’s big enough.”

Clarke nods, crossing her arms. “Are you going there?”

“Yeah,” he says. “I was going to bring Lincoln. You know where he is?”

Despite her effort to hide the grin that is creeping up on her face, Clarke’s mouth curls up in a teasing smile as she follows him. “Aw, are you really trying to keep him away from your sister with that”

“Shut up,” he barks without glancing at her.

They find Lincoln - and surprise - he is helping Octavia out with storing the food.

“I’m rather busy right now,” he says after Bellamy asks if he will go with him. It’s funny to see Bellamy’s lips press together in annoyance, the way his arms cross because not a lot of people around here would dare to say no him. Of course, there is also the fact that Octavia and Lincoln spending time together bothers him a lot, but he isn’t ready to admit that, so…

“Bell, it’s not like you have a hundred kids here who can go with you,” Octavia tells him when she sees his sour face.

“But I would rather have some with experience around this area,” Bellamy snaps back.

Lincoln frowns and nudges his head towards her. “Take Clarke. She’s right there next to you.”

Someone with more experience obviously is code for _someone who is about to be intimate with his sister_ but they ignore that. Bellamy sighs and glances over to her, his brow raising in a silent question.

“Yeah, I could come along,” she shrugs nonchalantly. Life is not easy on the ground, but helping out a brother makes it worthwhile sometimes.

They walk in silence at first, not minding each other except for a couple of  _where to now_  questions. At some point though Clarke decides to drill him a bit.

“So,” she starts casually. “Does it bother you because Octavia is your little sister and you feel protective over her, or is it Lincoln and that he is -” She shrugs, not really sure how to say. “- he is not a Skyperson?”

He glares at her and for a split second she can see the answer in his eyes because it looks like guilt. Disappointment settles in her stomach. It shouldn’t be, Clarke should know that this difference between them won’t go away that soon but part of her hoped it would. That is the problem with hope, though. It breeds eternal misery. 

“She is my sister,” Bellamy says, voice gruff. “No one will ever be enough for her.”

“All Lincoln did was help you the whole time. He talks to the other kids, teaches them how to defend themselves. They like him.”

“They like me too. Doesn’t mean I’m a good person.”

Clarke furrows her brows, not having expected that kind of admission from him. “You’re not that bad, Bellamy.”

“Thanks,” he huffs and swallows. “Octavia already went through more than a seventeen year old girl ever should. Is it that bad to only want the best for her and not simply someone she just met?”

It doesn’t work like that, she thinks but keeps it to herself. Instead she sighs as she shoves the branches out of her face. “Trust me. You won’t find someone more kind, more strong or more good hearted than Lincoln. He would die for the people he loves. That kind of devotion is rare.”

Bellamy does not reply so she thinks that he is maybe considering her words. But then he stops abruptly, making her almost run into him. “And I also won’t find anyone more annoying than you. Did you know _that_?”

She glares before pushing past him. “You’re not the friendliest person either, Bellamy.”

“My personality is adaptive to the circumstances,” he retorts, following her. “You for example bring out the jerk in me.”

“I doubt anyone has to bring it out of you, it _is_ you.”

“So much about not that bad, huh?”

“Yeah,” she huffs. “So much.”

Not surprisingly Clarke regrets approaching the subject in the first place since he seems to be very touchy about it. However, she also figures that talking to him generally is a bad idea. Whatever she says or does, it will end up in a fight with Bellamy. He is a jerk.

It takes them another fifteen minutes to find the bunker that is hidden in the ground, invisible to outsiders. But since they partly know what they are looking for and Clarke is pretty smart they manage to find the door hinges buried beneath dirt and weed.

It’s really dark and there are spider webs everywhere when they go inside. Clarke narrows her eyes as she follows the trail of light that Bellamy’s flashlight gives them. She thinks that the supplies and the weapons must show up any time now but there is nothing. They are in an empty bunker.

“There’s nothing here,” she says, her shoulders sagging down in disappointment.

Bellamy does not respond, just stands there and stares at nothing like all of this does not even bother him.

“Bellamy,” Clarke snaps. “This bunker is useless. We should -”

Suddenly he lets out a low noise in his throat and his foot swings out and kicks at a barrel that stood there. The noise it makes startles Clarke and she flinches, taking a step back

“Clarke.”

Bellamy is in front of her but instead of the angry expression on his face, there is now a huge grin spread on it. Clarke looks to the spot his gaze is focused on and sees the thing that makes him so happy. Weapons. Lots and lots of weapons.

“Wow,” she breathes, her mouth curling upwards. “Guns.”

“We can finally protect ourselves properly.” He grabs one and starts examining it. Then he opens the other barrel and looks back at her with excitement. “And we have bullets. Guns and bullets, Clarke. Do you know what that means?”

“That we have a chance at survival?”

“Damn right we do.” Bellamy stands up with the gun and aims at the wall in front of him. The shot rings through the bunker and Clarke lets out a breath. „You want to try as well?“ he asks.

There is a feeling of temptation inside her at first, her fingers tingling to reach out and take the gun. But she doesn't.

„No, no. We are not supposed to ever touch guns in our clan,“ she explains, pressing her lips together.

Bellamy raises a skeptical brow. „This isn't your clan, though.“

„I know, but…“ she shrugs wordlessly, hoping that he gets the message. Because it‘s not like she has anything to lose, Clarke already got banished, but it‘s something she was taught and something she has believed in for thirteen years. Not that easy to give it up at once. 

„Your loss,“ he mutters under his breath before making another couple of shots at the wall. „You know that eventually you will have to use it, right? When your people attack, the camp will be equipped with guns and I don‘t think you'll come very far with combat skills.“

„I don‘t need a gun to take somebody out,“ she bites out and crosses her arms. The sudden interest in her using these damn weapons is annoying her since the original plan was to use them for the _peace_   _treaty_ anyway.

„But to kill someone.“

Clarke‘s gaze snaps to him and the cease between her brow furrows. „To kill? We don‘t need to kill anybody, Bellamy. We use these guns as a deterrent and for protections, not for murdering.“

„It is protection. You‘re naive if you think your clan will simply back off just because we own a couple of guns now.“

„But that was the plan!.“

Bellamy lets out a humorless laugh and shakes his head. „I knew you wouldn't go against your people when it came to it.“

„Oh, really? You told me that you trust me, that I stood up for you which I did. I got banished by my own people  _for you_  , and now you accuse me of ducking out because I don‘t want to kill?“

„Well, I take it back.“

„Bellamy, I am trying here. I want to save your people just as much as you do, all I‘m asking in return is that my people won‘t die in the process.“

„Nobody asked you to do this. We can protect ourselves.“

His stubbornness and inability to accept help makes Clarke‘s fist clench and she has to physically force herself not punch him in his stupid face. All she did was help them, from the beginning, and here he is, still not trusting her and telling her that they don‘t need her.

„You know what,“ she yells. „You can find your way back yourself.“ But she does not move, only stares at him expectantly.

Bellamy crossed his arms and gives her an irritated glance. „Fine.“

„Fine,“ she mirrors him, albeit far louder, and turns around, rushing to the exit of the bunker. The cool air outside is brisk but does not help to ease the anger boiling in her veins. She has never met someone this selfish, arrogant and inconsiderate.

Clarke is halfway back to camp when she notices the change in the weather, the way it gets harder to breath and a funny smell spreads through the air. And there it is - still somewhat away but right in front of her - the fog.

Mountain men.

Her heart instantly speeds up and she spins on her heels, running in the other direction. Clarke can‘t help but start panicking, not because of her - she knows how to protect herself, where to hide - but because Bellamy is out there in the open. And as much as she wants to rip his head off sometimes, she does not want him to die. So she runs, and runs, and runs.

It only takes her a couple of minutes to find him. He is strolling through the forest with the bag of guns swung over his shoulder. When she calls his name his head immediately snaps up.

„The fog,“ she breathes after coming to an abrupt stop in front of him, trying to drag him along by his arm. „We have to - have to run.“

Bellamy frowns but then he looks behind her and she sees him tense before they both start running.

„We have to get to the bunker. It will be safe there.“

Clarke feels like her lungs are on fire when she finally spots the rusty hinges of the bunker, panting as she climbs inside with Bellamy following her. Her knees give in as soon as they shut the door and she collapses against the wall, letting her head fall back as her chest still rises and falls way too fast. Bellamy does the same next to her.

Their breathing and panting is the only sound heard for a long time. Eventually her world stops spinning and Clarke huffs out a dry laughter.

„What‘s so funny?“ Bellamy asks irritated.

„Nothing, it‘s just -“ she shakes her head and closes her eyes. „My people are so focused on fighting you that they forgot about their actual enemy. The one that has been here all along.“

He frowns, glancing at her. „What do you mean?“

„Mountain men. They are responsible for this fog.” A few memories wash ashore and she swallows. “And for a lot more,“ Clarke adds quietly.

She feels Bellamy still looking at her, probably expecting her to go on but Clarke does not want to. It is a very vulnerable subject and a painful memory. She is not sure why she brought it up in the first place.

“I’m sorry, Clarke,” Bellamy says suddenly. “For what I said.”

She blinks as she looks at him.

“You would fight for us, I am sure of that even if it comes hard on hard.”

“Why the sudden change?”

“You could have left me to die,” he says, gaze trained on the hard floor. “But you didn’t. You turned around and found me. And if you are willing to risk your life for an asshole like me, you are willing to do it for the hundred too." His eyes look up to her, hesitating. "It's just with Jaha and the Ark coming down and all that... I got mad and let it on you."

She bites her lip before asking, "Did something happen with them?"

"Not much except that I shot our chancellor two weeks ago and now I have to talk and be friendly with him." Clarke's mouth falls open as she looks at him. "I did it to come down here," he explains upon seeing the shock written on her face, "To protect my sister."

"Is he going to punish you when he comes down? Is that why you were so upset?"

He lets out a long, tired sigh, scrubbing a hand across his face. "He said he wouldn't," Bellamy says quietly. "For telling him who wanted him dead, he pardoned me. But if he does -" he shrugs. "- then I'll just pack my things and go. No way I'm gonna spend my life chained up in some basement."

"We won't let it come to that," Clarke says firmly with a smile. "For what it's worth your people need you; Bellamy. We all need you."

His gazers flickers to her, and for a brief second she wants to reach out and hold him because he looks so vulnerable, but then his mask returns. "I never thought Jasper would make it, but thanks to you he did. We kind of need you, too."

Clarke smiles a little even though it’s probably stupid. She doesn’t say say anything else, just listens to her heart as it calms down.

At some point she realizes something and glances at Bellamy. “When your people come down,” she slowly starts and he turns his head to her. “More smart people will come down, right? I mean, like Raven and Monty?”

He looks confused but nods.

“And your people they have more weapons? Not guns but… bigger weapons like the ones that caused Praimfaya?”

“Praimfaya?” he asks, brows furrowed.

“The weapons that destroyed the world,” Clarke explains. “The bombs... that set the world aflame?”

“Oh, you mean nukes? No, no, we don’t have those up there. But we do have an entire group of clever ass people that could easily make a bomb. Not as huge as nuclear bombs but big.” Clarke lets the information sit in her brain as she thinks. “Why are you asking?”

“Just curious,” she says but he narrows his eyes.

“Uh-uh. You have this look in your eyes like you’re up to something.”

“Maybe I am.” He does not push any further, and she lets out a breath. „The mountain men have been taking my people for a long time now,“ she says carefully, looking at her hands. „They come in mist and with masks and every time they take people with them. We don‘t know what happens to them but sometimes - sometimes they come back.“

Bellamy eyes her and raises a brow. „Isn‘t that good?“

„No.“ She shakes her head. „They - when they come back they are different. My friend Argan was taken years ago. I was so happy that he was alive when I saw him and then he tried to kill me. He tried to eat me.“

The look on his face would be funny if it wasn‘t for the story she just told him.

„I‘m sorry,“ Bellamy eventually says.

It‘s the first time someone ever says that to her. _I‘m sorry._ Clarke knows it‘s not an apology, not an admission of guilt but something comforting. _I‘m sorry you had to go trough this. I‘m sorry your friend tried to kill you_. What she got to hear was when Argan bared his teeth at her: _Kill him before he kills you._

„It‘s been a while,“ she says and gets up. „The fog has probably left by now.“ When Bellamy remains sitting, she holds out her hand which he takes after a moment and she helps him up.

When they open the door of the bunker the air is clear of the fog.

 

x

 

„Something happened.“

It‘s Miller who greets them at the gates when the moon has already come out. He helps them with the weapons and trots along as they make their way to the ship.

„Yeah no shit,“ Bellamy snaps. „We didn‘t miss the acid fog.“

„No, something else. We found a child.“ Bellamy stops so abruptly that she runs into him, quickly recovering. „A grounder child.“ Now it‘s her turn to frown.

“What? Where are they? What - what happened?”

Miller nudges his head to the ship, managing to say “Lincoln is with her” before she storms away, running inside where she finds Lincoln and Jasper and someone else sitting in corner.

Lincoln looks up when he hears her come in. “She is Trikru.”

A nervous feeling floats through her body as she kneels down to the little girl, studying her curiously.

“Hey,” she says gently and smiles. “What’s your name? I’m Clarke.”

“Madi,” the girl answers.

“What happened Madi? Did you get lost?”

“She was in the woods when the fog came,” Lincoln explains. Clarke shoots him a look and then returns to Madi.

“What were you doing so far away from the village?”

Madi’s brown eyes stare up at her, looking like a deer in the headlights “Walking. I was tired of the lessons.”

It remind her of herself and Clarke can’t help but laugh despite the threat that is looming over them by holding a child of them here. If Trikru notices that one of their children is missing, and even worse if they somehow get the information that Madi is here, they will attack immediately. She gives her and nod and then stands up.

“We should bring her home.”

“I know,” Lincoln says. “But it was already dark when the fog left and if Anya or one of the others saw us with her… I didn’t know if it was the best solution.”

“If they see that she is here it will be worse,” Clarke says, worrying her lip. “Who found her?”

“Octavia.”

“Then she should go with you. They should know that Skaikru means well.”

Lincoln nods. They tell Madi that they are going to bring her home and even though the girl seems a little bit reluctant, she agrees. After that Lincoln goes to find Octavia while Clarke figures informing Bellamy might be a good idea.

He is showing the weapons to Harper and Monroe and some other kids when she approaches silently, watching as the rifle moves around in his hands. It looks like he is skilled with it.

“Aim for the legs or shoulders when the threat is not immediate,” he tells them and aims the gun at the air. “If they attack, aim at the head.”

“Why not just kill them? It’s not like they haven’t already killed five of us,” a boy with dark hair huffs, clearly not fond of Bellamy’s instruction.

“Because I say so,” Bellamy barks. “Unless you want to be responsible for a war and more of our people dying, you’re not gonna kill them.”

It looks like the boy is about to retort something so Clarke chooses this moment to intervene. “Bellamy,” she says, pushing past the others and tapping his arm. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

He nods and the others take that as a sign to leave, even the boy. “How's the kid”

“She’s from our clan so we think it’s best to bring her back before they think that we are at fault here. Octavia found her so she’s going with Lincoln. Maybe they will recognize this as a sign of peace.”

“Octavia is going? Clarke, no way. It’s night and -“

“You’re going, too.”

He looks confused for a moment so she wants to explain.

“You’re their leader,” she says, locking eyes with him. “They should know who you are and that you come in peace.”

Bellamy’s gaze remains unreadable but eventually his brow twitches and her gives her a small nod. “Fine. But you should come, too. You’re their people.”

“Lincoln will be there. That’s enough.”

“Are you sure?”

“Someone needs to take care of the camp while you’re away,” she half jokes and musters up something like a grin. To her surprise he actually returns it.

“You make a point.”

Clarke considers leaving it at that. Lincoln is able to explain him anything else he should know but for some reasons she feels the need to say something else, say more. “Don’t die, Bellamy.”

There is flicker of surprise in his eyes and then it disappears and he leaves to get the others. Clarke watches him go as a new feeling settles in her stomach, something like fear and excitement. Something that sets her nerves on fire.

The hours after their departure pass agonizingly slow, like someone made the clock of life turn ten times slower. Perhaps it shows on her face because when she goes through herbs and balms to distract herself, Raven shoots her an irritated look.

“Why the sour face, grounder princess?”

Clarke frowns at that name that she doesn’t particularly favor. It started a couple of days ago when Bellamy called her that in a meeting and ever since it seems like the others have picked it up as well. She hates it. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh come on, you’re pissing your pants about them going to your people,” Raven says and shoots her a smug smirk.

Clarke does not understand the reason behind asking a question to an answer she already knows. Isn’t that illogical? “Admittedly, a lot of things can go wrong,” she argues, looking away. “Many, many things.”

“So? That’s earth 101. If something can go wrong, it will go wrong.”

What she says sounds stupid but logical at the same time. „That may be true but,“ she lifts her gaze to Raven. „Should we not still hope that it will not?“

„Sure,“ Raven scoffs and turns away to do something mechanical that she always does. It is still for a couple of moments but Clarke remembers something. She meant to ask Raven a question, ever since she landed in that ship, but the timing never seemed right. Now they‘re alone, just the two of them and it feels right.

„Can I ask you something?“

Raven glances at her briefly before going back to rummaging through tools. „Shoot.“

Clarke figures that is a yes. „You said you came down in secret. Is that right?”

“I did,” she nods.

“Why were the hundred sent down but you… had to go like this?”

“Because they were criminals that would have been killed at the age of eighteen anyway, meaning they were expendable and the Ark is dying. They didn’t want to see if the earth was survivable, they wanted less people to breathe the air that was running out.”

“Isn’t that cruel?” Clarke asks which makes Raven shoot her an annoyed look.

“Isn’t it cruel to go to war with a bunch of kids?”

Her anger takes her by surprise. After all, the question was genuine. Even though Bellamy had mentioned something about his people killing his mother, she hasn’t thought that _all_ of them are cruel.

“It’s what they did to survive up there,” Raven adds after a minute and shrugs. “Same as you.”

“Were there other people like you, Raven? People that came down in secret?”

Raven furrows her brows, seeming to think about it. “I guess. I mean we have more than one capsules up there and every once in a while there were some lunatics that stole it and took off. Maybe not lunatics, after all, right?” she says and smirks.

“No,” Clarke murmurs, staring off in to the distance as the information goes through her head. Other people.

 

x

 

For the first time in these past weeks Clarke sleeps for more than a couple of hours that night. It’s different than how she slept back in the village in a hut on the leftover of a bed. Now it was a mat and thin tent over her head that Bellamy gave her. Different but not worse.

When she wakes up the air is already warm and thick in the tent. Clarke remains lying for some time before she remembers all the things that have to be done - the child and the others who bring her back… - and gets up.

To her surprise Bellamy and Octavia are standing in front of the ship, seemingly discussing something when she comes out. Clarke immediately runs over to them, mouth wide as she regards them. “You’re back,” she says.

The siblings both look at her, Bellamy almost looking amused while Octavia simply looks bored.

“Good morning, sunshine,” Bellamy quips.

Clarke frowns and ignores the comment, not really sure what he means. “How did it go? What - what did they say?”

“Not much actually,” Octavia answers.

“Your people aren’t the chatty type,” Bellamy jokes. “Unlike you.”

She wants to retort that she is not that talkative either but she just shakes her head and focuses on the important information. “Who did you talk to? Did they say anything at all?”

“Lincoln said her name was Anya. They exchanged a few words in that language and she thanked us. Then she took the kid and left without a word.”

Well, that doesn’t sound so bad, she thinks to herself.

“They didn’t attack us,” Bellamy adds with a shrug. “I figure that’s a good sign.”

After that Clarke finds Lincoln who tells her the same thing. All that Anya wanted to know was why he came with the outsiders and then she accepted his reason and that was it. Clarke can’t put her head around if that is a progression or a regression. Her people are harsh but they also recognize a good deed when it is done.

She wonders for the rest of the afternoon while she follows Jasper around the camp as he makes his first walks outside the ship.

“Grounder!”

It’s a guard who yells this across the entire camp and Clarke almost lets Jasper fall as her head snaps to the gate. 

“That can’t be good,” Jasper murmurs, craning his neck to see what is going on. Helping him to lean against the wall of the ship, she retreats her hands.

“I need to deal with this. Stay here.”

The first thing she does is look for Bellamy and it turns out he thought the same because he runs over to her as soon as he spots her in the crowd.

“Grounders,” he says.

“Do you know how many? Is it Anya?”

He shakes his head. “No. Just one. On horseback.”

“A messenger,” she breathes. That could mean both a disaster or perhaps something else. They decide to go outside the wall together. Clarke to translate if needed and Bellamy as the leader of the Skypeople.

Clarke recognizes the rider when they step outside. It’s Seneca, a warrior from her village and he remains mostly impassive upoin seeing her but she can feel that he judges her. He is looking down at her, literally and metaphorically.

“Trikru expresses its gratitude for bringing back the natblida and recognizes this as an act of peace. For the time being our army will not attack. You must however go to Polis and testify before Heda and answer for your past crimes. You have twenty days. Do not shed any more blood in that time.“

Seneca clicks his tongue, drawing in the rains and the horse turns around before either of them even has a chance to reply. Clarke watches him ride away, not sure what to think while Bellamy clears his throat next to her.

„Well, that was fucking weird“ Bellamy says, making a funny face.

„But good."

He furrows his brows. „You really think that? What if it's a trap and they're just waiting for us to relax before they come and kill us all?“ For a very serious guy that scowls most of the time, he has a very imaginative fantasy.

„Bellamy,“ she says, taking a step closer to him. „This _is_ good. Something like this wouldn't be a trap and they aren‘t attacking so -“

„Yet. They aren‘t attacking yet.“ A muscle in his jaw jumps as he gives her a look. And she understands. He thinks it is not fair they want to attack at all. Clarke understands. „So say we go and talk to this Commander, or whatever. What if it doesn‘t work? And he doesn‘t agree? Then we get killed. Great.“

Her shoulders fall as she regards him. „It will work. And we will convince _her_.“

„You really believe that?“

„Yes,“ she nods, holding his gaze. „I do.“

Bellamy lets out a sigh, still not entirely positive. „Fine. Let‘s go tell our people the good news then, I guess.“

Only when they are explaining what happened and what will happen to the camp, Clarke notices Bellamy‘s choice of words. He said _our people_ as in his and hers. Maybe it is stupid overthinking on her part and he  didn‘t even notice but a small part of her wishes it wasn‘t. Ever since she found out about her origin, she has been wondering off and on what it means for her, where she belongs now, who she belongs with… when he said it it felt good. It felt good to hear that.

That night the hundred celebrates the small victory even though Clarke thinks it is not a good idea. They should be making preparations for the trip to Polis and for the rest of the Skypeople’s arrival and not start a feast full of young people loving each other, drinking hard liquor and dancing the night away. But since everybody is too eager to be young and dumb again to listen to her she accepts it silently.

She finds herself sitting around the bon fire with Octavia and Lincoln who have both already consumed quite the amount of that so called Moonshine that Monty produces.

„You have to train me, Clarke,“ Octavia says with a sheepish grin. „Lincoln takes it too easy on me.“ The man in question makes a face at that and Octavia elbows his ribs, letting out a giggle.

„You are just too good.“

„You‘re lying.“ Octavia turns to Clarke for support, raising her brows. „He‘s lying, isn‘t he?“

Their banter is so sweet that Clarke cannot help herself but let out a chuckle as she regards the pair across from her. „A little,“ she agrees with a smile. “Lincoln has gone soft on you.”

“You were supposed to help me, not team up with Octavia!”

"Sorry, Lincoln." Her gaze focuses back on Octavia and she thinks about what she asked her, frowning. It could work. "I could slip you in before my training with Bellamy," she finally says and offers her a small smile.

Octavia reciprocates, before asking, "And how's that going, by the way? I bet he‘s getting his ass kicked."

"A little," she laughs. 

"But I think you're the only one who can do." The brunette takes a sip from her cup before leaning back against Lincoln's chest. It's crazy how fast they got used to each other, Clarke notes, but they fit so well together. "He would be too proud to train with Lincoln." Clarke's brows furrow. "You know, with me and him and all that. So protective all the time."

Which is true but Clarke knows somewhere that he means well, all he wants to do is to protect his sister. "I'm not even sure he likes me," she admits with a raised brow because saying that she is the only one who he would train with is a bit too far fetched in her opinion. For some reason Lincoln and Octavia share a strange look when she says that. 

"He almost punched a kid because he wasn't so friendly with his choice of words talking about you -"

"What?"

"Dax," Octavia says. "He's an asshole. And well, he was going on about how stupid it is to work with grounders, so _you_ and then he said you act like a stuck up princess or something like that - seriously, a complete dick -  and of course, Bellamy butted in and would have knocked him senseless if it wasn't for Miller. So, he likes you just _fine._ "

The information is very surprising, and weirdly enough she fees a rush of affection when she thinks about him. It's not like he is not an ass, he totally is, but slowly Clarke starts to think that his whole bravado and loud, angry prick act is all what it is: an act. She is not entirely sure why, why he would push so many people away to keep his role up but she doesn't necessarily have to know that. All she knows is that he tries to hide his smile when Jasper goes on about finally walking again, and his eyes go soft when he sees Octavia doing something completely ordinary, and once she heard him tell stories to a younger girl that had trouble falling asleep. Somewhere deep inside there is something soft in Bellamy. And sometimes he lets her see past this mask, too.

 

Octavia and Lincoln start to get cozy with each other so she takes it as a cue to leave them be. She wanders around the camp, noticing some of the pairs that have disappeared into dark corners to consummate their human urges as she guesses. The rest is sitting around the bonfire. A couple of people are watching the gates. That is where she spots Bellamy, leaning against the wall and biting into a lush red apple.

She approaches him and sighs, "Twenty days. Twenty days where no one should be coming.”

Bellamy shrugs. “Doesn't mean that everybody agrees with this. I bet there’s still some people that are out for blood.”

“There always are.” Clarke nods and presses her lips together before shooting him a glance. “So… are you consummating tonight as well?”

He almost chokes on the apple and starts coughing wildly so that Clarke is forced to give him a few slaps against his back, utterly confused by his reaction. After a whole minute he finally lifts his gaze to her. “Jesus Clarke. Consummate?”

“Yeah,” she says innocently. “Everybody else is. I know that Lincoln and Octavia a-”

“Oh my god,” he cuts her off with a groan and places a hand on his temple like he is having a headache. “Please stop - don’t, don’t say that to me.”

“What is the problem? Sex?”

“No, but my little sister having it. I don’t wanna know that, Clarke.”

Genuinely baffled by his eccentric aversion of the subject she holds up her hands. “I apologize. I didn’t know you would mind.” The customs she apparently grew up with are different than theirs. Sex is a natural act and more often than not functional. Her people have sex to get children and thus more people in the village that will contribute to society. They also have sex to relax, experience some form of pleasure in a world that does not allow them that many options. In rare occasions, her people sleep with someone because of love. It is not that common to come upon such thing but Clarke has always believed there still are; there still is love. Take Lincoln for example, he seems to have found his Niron in the skygirl.

Bellamy shoots her a look and then looks ahead, shaking his head a little. “Whatever. And no I’m not consummating tonight. Someone needs to take care of the drunk kids after all.”

“That is kind of you.”

“Well, wouldn’t be too good if half our camp would die of alcohol poisoning, would it?”

Bellamy tries to hide the good deed his doing with a reason but she can see right past it. Like she said _soft._ With a smile she eats a few nuts that she always carries in the pocket of her leather jacket.

“What about you?” he suddenly asks. It’s not clear whether he is asking about consummating or something else so she chooses to reply to both.

“I don’t think anyone wants to sleep with a grounder girl,” Clarke explains, half joking and looks at the ground. Octavia being the exception, obviously, but she doesn’t say that out loud for Bellamy’s sake. “So I am going to the river to wash. I won’t get that same opportunity any time soon.”

“You’re going now? At night?” he echoes, voice sounding irritated.

Clarke nods unimpressed.

“Alone?”

She gives another nod, by now amused by his concern.

“That’s not a good idea, Clarke, even if we have those twenty days. What if -”

“Bellamy,” she says. “I grew up here. I am a grounder. I know how to take care of myself.”

“Grounder or not, anything can happen. I remember your own clan attacking you when you were with Lincoln.”

“That was,” she sighs, looking for a good argument but not coming up with anything, “different.”

“Like hell,” Bellamy barks and throws the uneaten part of his apple over the gates before seizing her down with a look. “I’m coming with you.”

“What about taking care of the kids?” she asks, crossing her arms and raising a brow.

“They won’t die while we’re gone,” he tells her and opens the gate. “Unless you plan to bath for the whole night, princess.”

“Shut up,” Clarke mutters, but can’t keep herself from grinning as she shakes her head and follows Bellamy out of the camp.

They discuss what still needs to be done and when the rest of his people are planning to come down during their walk to the river. He is telling her he hopes they will bring a few books with them when she stops in her tracks and bites her lip. “Will they accept me? Your people, I mean.” Bellamy frowns. “To them I belong to the people that have killed and hunted you. I am the enemy.”

Coming a few steps closer to her, he shakes his head. “You’re not like that, Clarke. Not the enemy.”

“But they will assume I am.”

“I’m personally gonna tell them how much you’ve helped us since we came down here. Besides, the hundred were sent here to die, so they’re not the ones to talk about right or wrong.”

“I heard,” she says, tilting her head as she regards him. “Raven told me your home, it was dying so… you came down.”

“Something like that.” They start to walk again, this time next to each other instead of behind one another. “You see, up there in space we need oxygen to breathe. Which we don’t have naturally like down here.”

“I know that we need oxygen, Bellamy. I’m a grounder, not a caveman.”

He smirks before continuing. “So we had machines that created oxygen for us but one day they find out that the machines are broken. Sucks if you have like a dozen people relying on it.”

“And they sent you down,” Clarke murmurs with a frown. “How long have they known?”

“Dunno, I guess the machines have been broken for a while now. That’s why the drastic measures,” Bellamy shrugs, ducking under a branch.

It all starts to make sense in her head. The other ships. The people coming down. Their home dying…

“So of course they send the fucking kids down to the ground to die. Some of them are ten.”

 

Expendable delinquents. 

"I'm sorry that you had to go through that." She thinks about what he told her, about Octavia and his mother and what he did to get here. 

Bellamy gives her a funny look, then stares ahead. "Yeah, it's in the past now. Now I can at least try to keep them safe."  They arrive at the river’s edge, stopping where the water starts. He catches her wrist before he goes, almost timid as he looks at her. "Thank you. For helping us," he says, voice thick. The corners of her mouth curls upwards as she ducks her head and nods. 

Clarke makes quick work of undressing herself while Bellamy keeps watch behind the thick line of bushes and trees that separate them. The water is cold when she slips in, the water covering her entire body up until the mouth. She breathes in, breathes out.

20 days.

20 days to get it right.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would be super grateful if you left some comments and told me what you think so far, what you liked and if you have any questions. Seriously, getting comments on a fic is the best reward anyone can get for investing their time in it, so yeah, I would really appreciate it, guys! Side note: You may notice loose parallels to the plot of season 1 and 2 of the show, but honestly it differs a lot from canon. In case you were worried it would be the same story. It is most definitely not!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Adventures. Bellarke being badass together. Leading TOGETHER. The usual.

**_III/V_ **

 

He lunges out and strikes, his fist flying in her direction. Clarke is faster, she dodges it. Bellamy tries again immediately this time his fist coming from underneath. Ducking, she gathers strength before sliding across the dirt and kicking his legs so that he falls straight on his back, groaning.

“Fuck,” he hisses, punching the ground.

“You are all anger aggression. Too focused on fighting me instead of actually beating me.” She gets up and hovers above him, letting out a grin when he makes a face.

“Isn’t that the same?”

“No,” Clarke replies but holds out her hand that he accepts, and she helps him get up. “But you are still better than most of the hundred.”

“That doesn’t help me when some bloody grounder attacks me.” She huffs out a dry laugh, crossing her arms. “No offense.”

“No, it’s fine. That’s why we’re training.”

“That’s not good enough, we’re running out of time.” Bellamy sighs as he picks up a bottle of water and takes a few strong gulps.

“I know.” It has been twelve days since the message from Trikru and even though they have been keeping their word so far the time is running. And Clarke doubts Heda is a patient person.

Bellamy and the others didn’t think the camp was ready. The kids weren’t prepared, not able to use the gun or defend themselves so they all decided to wait before going to Polis. Clarke knows that it was the right decision, yet she also believes they cannot allow themselves any more time.

“C’mon,” Bellamy says and snaps her back to reality, his hand brushing her shoulder. “The meeting.” Glancing at him, she nods and they make their way to the dropship.

“Okay people,” Bellamy says once everybody gathers around the table that they have been using for strategic and hunting planing. Miller, Murphy, Raven, Monty, Octavia and Lincoln all look to him. „We need to know where we stand. Let‘s start with the gates, Miller.“

“All intact and impervious,” Miller reports. “Or we think. Thanks to the radios Raven made us the guards now have a solid communication system. They also how guns.”

“Good. Continue to the target training.” Miller gives him a short nod and Bellamy’s gaze wanders to Raven who is looking around the room, almost bored. “Raven,” he snaps.

“Right, sorry boss,” she smirks. “I’ve managed to make you guys more gunpowder thanks to the amazing genius I am. Working on more radios currently and fixing more things in this shithole.”

“What about the Ark?”

“Still nothing,” she sighs. They have lost contact with their people in the sky a few days ago but remain hopeful that their friends and families still make it to the ground. It’s the only thing they can do from down here.

Clarke sees Bellamy’s jaw tense but he moves on to Murphy who tells him about the hunting parties and the food they bring in. Not enough for winter, she knows, but enough for what they need now. Octavia reports about the progress they have made with the tents and sleeping compartments they have been arranging around the camp. After a hard day of work everyone deserves a good night's rest.

Lastly Bellamy looks at Lincoln and her, raising a brow.

Lincoln takes over with the report about training. Like she already said to Bellamy, most of the children fight with too much aggression and their body instead of their head and hands. They don’t use the things they have to their advantage, only rely on their strength. But Lincoln sees progress even though it’s very small and very slow. Some of the people in training show more drastic improvement like Octavia, Harper and Bellamy.

After he finishes Clarke takes a deep breath and glances at the people, each playing an important part in their survival. They are ready, _the camp_ is ready. “Listen up,” she starts. “It has been twelve days since Trikru called the ceasefire, that means we have eight more days left to go to the Commander. We’ve all agreed to wait until the camp is ready in case anything happens and it is. It’s working thanks to you. So now we have to make sure that it stays that way. We should leave as soon as possible.”

A few people around the table agree with a nod, whereas others look skeptical.

“That’s all good and great, but what do you expect to tell this Commander once you actually get there?” Murphy asks with a raised brow. “We’re just a bunch of kids. How exactly are you planning to convince her to make peace with us?”

A good question indeed and Clarke exchanges a look with Bellamy before answering. “We’re working on it, but the idea is that we propose her to help with an enemy. A big one.”

Lincoln narrows his eyes, murmurs, “The Mountain Mean.”

Clarke nods. “The coalition only exists because Heda wanted to stop the harvest, and we can help her achieve that goal. With the help of Raven and Monty -” Raven winks at her. “- but like I said it’s still in progress.”

“The enemy of my enemy is my friend,” Bellamy says into the round. “That’s how we are going to make this ceasefire stay. Of course we still have superior medicine, technology and other things we have to offer.”

“We would have more if the rest of the Ark came down,” Monty mutters, looking at the table with a sad look.

“For now we have this,” Bellamy replies and then turns to Clarke. “So let’s do it then.”

The initial question is who is going and who is staying. In Clarke’s opinion it is obvious that Bellamy should go because he is the leader, whether he admits it or not. If Heda will want to speak to anyone then it is going to be a leader, so him. Who is accompanying him is another question. Lincoln and her both know the way to Polis, having both been there on ascension day to celebrate the Commander.

“Lincoln should stay here,” Octavia declares, her hand wrapping around Lincoln’s under the table. “He can continue training and he is a healer in case anybody gets sicks or injured.”

Bellamy crosses his arms. “So is Clarke,” he remarks, his voice unconvinced.

“Yeah, but Clarke is good at this whole leader thingy you two got going on,” his sisters says and rolls his eyes. To her surprise the others all nod in agreement.

“She’s right. You’re like the mom and dad everyone listens to,” Monty agrees.

Clarke blinks at Bellamy who does the same, both the same puzzled expression in their eyes. Their what now? Pulling herself together, she shakes her head with a frown and looks back at the group.

“For whatever reason, I can go. I’ve met the Commander once so it might be useful.”

They met five or six years ago at the natblida ceremony in TonDC, one of Trikru’s main villages. Clarke exchanged a few words with Heda - her name is Lexa - about the war with Azgeda and about Anya whose second she was. Then the fleimkepa cut both of their palms and she bled differently. After that Lexa went to Polis, participated in the conclave with the other natblidas and the rest is history. At the time the fourteen year old girl was reserved and quiet, but she was not evil. So they might still have a chance at this peace.

The third person to accompany them is Murphy, they decide. Frankly, Murphy is an asshole, he rarely has something nice to say, always has some kind of snarky remark to make and most of the time he is out to pick a fight with anyone who says anything ever. But he is a survivor. That’s what Bellamy told her. And they need that on this trip.

After everyone goes back to work, Clarke lets out a tired sigh and turns to look at Bellamy who is staring off into the distance, brooding. For some reason she feels offended.

“Hey, I know that it’s not your favorite thing to spend the next week with me but we have to do this.”

His brows furrow as he regards her. “I never said that.”

“Yes, but you’re not looking exactly pleased,” she remarks.

“That’s not because of you,” Bellamy tells her with a sigh. “And honestly, compared to Murphy you’re a saint even though you're bossy.” Clarke grins despite her attempt to hide it. “I’m... I’m actually glad it’s you,” he admits and looks away, scratching the back of his neck. “You’re, uh, a good partner. The others are right even if they said it in a really fucking weird way, you know. We make a good team.”

“Yeah,” she hums, and holds his gaze once he looks at her again. “Maybe we do make a pretty good team.”

Of course that is when things start to go wrong. It begins with the tent where they store their food burning down because some fool was incapable of controlling the flames. Which means that they have to find a temporary alternative until a new place is built. After that two boys get into a fist fight over whose things belong to whom and Bellamy, being the person he is, tries to break it up. He gets a black eye while the other two end up with two sprained ankles, a broken finger and multiple flesh wounds.

Clarke lets out her frustration on Bellamy while she is cleaning up his bloody face.

„You should have been more careful,“ she mutters, sterilizing his face with a cloth soaked in alcohol. Bellamy winces when it touches his swollen eye.„Stay still.“

„Fucking stings,“ he snaps.

„Then you shouldn‘t have interfered.“

„What should I have done in your opinion, huh? Let them beat themselves to death?“

„Yes,“ she snaps, „If that is what they want to do, let them. Bellamy, we need to head out tomorrow! What if something would have happened -“

„You know what,“ Bellamy gets up and pushes past her, shaking his head. „Fuck that, I‘m not gonna apologize for this.“

He wants to leave the dropship but she gets to the exit faster than him, blocking it with her arms crossed in front of her chest. „Sit back down.“

He glares at her, does not move. „Get out of my way, Clarke.“

„I said sit down,“ she repeats, voice growing deeper. „You and I are going to Polis tomorrow and we will do that healthy and stitched up.“

Meeting her stare, he clenches his fists and clicks his jaw. They eye one another, Clarke defiant, Bellamy stubborn, both equally determined.

The moment breaks when someone barges in all - they are not the only people after all. It's Octavia, Clarke can see that from the corner of her eyes.

She eyes them suspiciously. „What the hell is going on with you two?“

„Your brother,“ she grits out, „is acting like a stubborn dick.“

„Since when has breaking up a fight become a bad thing, huh?“

Octavia rolls her eyes and sighs but Clarke does not bother. „This attempt at peace should be as important to you as it is to me! You have to see the bigger picture here, Bellamy.“

He opens his mouth to reply when Octavia steps between them, pushing Bellamy a few steps back and punishing both of them with a stern glance. „You should both take a breath before you bite each other’s heads off.“

She is right, it's decent idea and better than an unnecessary fight. With a nod, she takes a step back albeit reluctantly. „Make sure someone treats his face,“ she tells Octavia before going out.

However, it does not stop there.

After helping out with rebuilding the tent that burned down she finds herself a quiet place to sit. The sun has already set and she admires the moon that is illuminating the camp instead. She has always loved the moon.

It doesn't last for long, though. She hears screams all of a sudden. After she jumps up, she hurries to the source of the noise - freezing when she sees it.

Sterling, one of the guards, is lying on the ground with an arrow in his neck. Lifeless.

Before she has a chance to react, to do something, someones else hits the earth a couple of feet away. Clarke tries to push her shock aside and runs over to the girl who has been hit as well. The arrow is in her chest. Her eyes roll back as a gurgling sound comes out of her, a line of bleed seeping from her mouth. She is still alive but barely.

Everything happens so fast. Shooters run to the gates, including Bellamy and she hears him shouting orders as she stares at the wound in front of her. Her hands are shaking. Lincoln kneels down next to her. She doesn't know when or how. But together with Octavia and Jasper, they move the girl inside the dropship and away from the field of fire.

They try their best to save her, but she dies anyway. Bleeds out right in front of them. Clarke does not cry.

Her name was Trina, sixteen year old, excellent shooter.

Clarke helps the others that get injured during the attack but it's not long before everything is over. The sound of the guns simply stop and soon after she sees Bellamy come in, a rifle dangling around his shoulder. There is blood on his face, on his hands, everywhere.

„It‘s over,“ he says numbly, staring into space.

„Did anyone else get hurt?“ Lincoln asks and he shakes his head. No. A small wave of relief washes over her.

"Was that Trikru? I don't get it," Octavia says, irritated. "I thought they called ceasefire?"

Lincoln sighs, rubbing his forehead. "I don't think this was an official ambush. Anya wouldn't break her word."

"Whoever it was, they're dead now," Bellamy snaps. His gaze finally wanders to her, asking her a silent question. She wants to tell him that Trina survived but she can't, so she shakes her head as well. His eyes fall to the ground.

The hundred, who have become far less than hundred by now, gather in the dropship since parts of the gates have been affected. They spend the night there.

Clarke is outside. She regards the few people that have the courage to keep watch that night, leaning against a log of tree as exhaustion seeps through every cell in her body.

„You should go inside,“ she hears and turns around to Bellamy who is hovering, studying her with a deep scowl. „It‘s safer there.“

„I can‘t sleep when it‘s so crowded.”

There is a moment of silence before he sits down next to her, a tired sigh escaping his body. “I know what you mean.” They sit like that for minutes, or maybe hours. Time means so little when anything can happen in a matter of seconds. Murphy approaches at some point,

“Are we doing the whole trip thing or not?”

Bellamy makes an incoherent sound next to her, but it feels like something sad and broken. “Today - I don’t think it’s the right time to go now. Not with what happened. Maybe the called the whole deal off anyway."

"No, Lincoln was right. Those were rebels or outsiders who don't follow the rules. We can still negotiate with the Commander." The muscles in his jack tick as he thinks. “If we don’t go,” Clarke adds, voice even, “you all die like this.”

Murphy presses his lips together, glancing between the two of them. “What’s it gonna be, bosses?”

Clarke fears that Bellamy will not agree , but he nods with a sigh. “We leave at first light. Get a good night’s rest, we got a couple of long days ahead of us.” Her chest falls with relief and Murphy accepts it with an obedient nod before he heads off to a dark corner somewhere.

She does not say anything for a while, the only sound is the sound of their breathing. After a time she glances at him. “It’s the right choice, Bellamy.”

His eyes meet hers. “I hope so because it doesn’t feel right at all to abandon them now.”

She wants to tell him that they are not abandoning the camp, after all they are going to come back. Hopefully with a peace treaty on their side. They are going to save them, not abandon them. But Bellamy knows that somewhere, it was just a very hard day.

Instead she asks a question that she already knows the answer to. “What - what happened out there?”

Bellamy looks away from her and swallows. “There were four of them, all shooting arrow at the guards from the trees. We tried to defends ourselves, scare them away but they -” he shakes his head almost incredulously. “- they didn’t stop. Miller and I had to go outside when they fell from the trees. We killed them.” There is a second in which the horror of today's events reflects in his eyes but it disappears before she can do anything about it. Bellamy swallows, his face hardening. “It was the only way to stop them.”

Clarke knows. She does not reply, instead she places her hand on his knee and squeezes. It is a gesture of support, of reassurance - she learned from the Skypeople. Words are never enough but a simple touch can express thousands of them at once. So she squeezes and hopes it is enough.

Her eyes fall closed at some point and she falls asleep next to Bellamy with her hand on his knee. Hoping that someday they will get it right.

x

The trio says their goodbyes at the opened gates. Octavia pulls Bellamy into a deep hug, pressing her face into his neck and whispering, “Stay safe, big brother.”

“May we meet again,” he says after pulling back. “Take care of the camp for us, you two.” Bellamy's gaze flickers to Lincoln, nodding in acknowledgement. “Do whatever it takes to stay alive.”

Lincoln rubs Octavia's shoulder to reassure her before looking at Clarke. “Mebi oso na hit choda op nodotaim,” he says with a tight smile, giving her a hug. They are both aware that people who leave in this world usually don't come back. It's only a trip but there are a thousand things that could go wrong, especially in uncertain times like these.

And then they leave, a four day hike ahead of them.

The first few hours are silent for the most part, none of them having much to say. Murphy appears to be the opposite of a morning person, grumbling on about the shitty night he had and how the branches are in his way. Bellamy is just grumpy in general.

„We should take a break, eat something,“ Clarke suggests when the sun is at its highest. They have been trekking for a while now and need to get energized.

She only gets a nod out of Murphy who helps her set up a small site where they can sit down. Bellamy stands around, keeping a firm grip on his gun while his gaze searches his surroundings like he is expecting someone to jump out of the bushes any minute. The food helps her think, but she notices that Bellamy does not even touch it.

„You should eat something, Bellamy." Nudging the food towards him, she shoots him an expectant look.

„Not hungry.“

„I don‘t care, your body still needs the food.“

The look Bellamy gives her would be funny if she wasn't dead serious about it. Food is important. Strength is. „Fine,“ he grits out, holding her gaze stubbornly as he takes the piece of meat and stuffs it in his mouth. Clarke watches him chew, unfazed by his malicious glare, „You happy now?“

She finally drops her gaze, rolling her eyes. „It‘s about keeping you strong, not whether I am happy or not.“

„Wow,“ Clarke hears Murphy mumble next to her but she ignores it and eats up.

They get on the move again after that. Clarke is going through the plan to defeat the Mountain Men in her head when Murphy’s annoying voice snaps her back to reality.

“So,” he says and she gives him a brief glance. “I think I realize where the problem is.” Clarke raises a brow, curious what he has got to say. “Bellamy, you killed someone yesterday. And grounder princess, someone died under your watch. You both fucked up and now you feel like worthless pieces of shit.”

“Shut up, Murphy,” Bellamy growls before she even processes what he said. There's a dangerous tension in his voice, but to be honest, she agrees on this one.

“It’s not funny.”

“Never said it's funny, but it’s the problem here, ain’t that so?” He gives her a challenging look that she avoids by focusing on the trail in front of her. It's much more interesting anyway. “I killed someone once,” Murphy says when neither of the two give him any reply. Clarke looks up at that, a deep furrow on her forehead.

“You trying to make some kind of therapy session out of this?” Bellamy’s leg kicks at a pebble in front of him. “When I asked you to come with us it was because I thought you would shut up. Guess I was wrong.”

It doesn’t seem to offend Murphy, his expression unbothered. But Clarke feels the sudden urge to be at least somewhat civil. Not everyone has to be a jerk like Bellamy. “Who - " she pauses, not sure about the question but then decides it's okay. "Who was it?” He eyes her from the side.

“A guard on the Ark. The one who ratted my father out for stealing medicine.”

He does not offer her the whole story but she can piece it together on her own. His father stole medicine, presumably for Murphy himself and got caught. From what she has heard the Skypeople weren’t very merciful with their prisoners so perhaps his father was executed. It’s tragic in its own way, like most stories are.

“I’m sorry,” she offers him. By now she has learned that the phrase can hold various meaning. I’m sorry that you had to kill someone. I’m sorry you were in such a situation. I’m sorry that your father probably died. Sorry for the burden you now carry with you.

By the time night breaks in Clarke feels like they have been walking for days. A little ironic to feel this way, when she is the grounder and should be the one most used to walking long distances. But for some reason it feels excruciatingly long and tiresome and heavy on her shoulder. She guesses it's is the weight of the day before, the deaths, the killing. Or, deep down she is scared of what will happen once they reach their destination. It could be both.

They set up camp around a thick tree that should hide them from their surroundings. Murphy manages to make a fire and volunteers to take the first watch which Clarke is grateful for. She is tired, so tired.

She lets her head fall against her mat and notices how calm Bellamy’s face looks while he is asleep compared with the hard expression he was wearing this whole day. Deep down she knows that he is not doing well with the previous events, and she also knows that if he will not get any better soon, he will be no use in Polis. Heda is expecting a strong leader of the Skypeople, not an empty shell of it. The thought follows her until she falls asleep.

To her surprise the following day starts off better. Although Bellamy still keeps most of his thoughts to himself, he makes a few comments from here and there, and asks her questions about the Commander. Clarke is happy to tell him about the Heda line, the coalition she created and the war that she stopped among the twelve clans.

“I don’t get it,” Bellamy grumbles after listening to the stories about the conclaves. “How does killing all your opponents make a good leader?”

Clarke furrows her brows, not having expected this kind of question. “It shows the spirit of the Commander is with them. That they are the chosen one.”

“And you agree with that?”

“I - um, I have never thought about that.” Her hand scratches a spot in her hair as she thinks about it. “ I do," she concludes after thinking about it. "I have to. Look what she has accomplished: the coalition, peace, life. It must have been with the help of the spirit.”

“Or she was just good in combat.”

Huffing out a puff of breath, she kicks at a stone. “Whatever your opinion is, it is best not to voice it in front of Heda. I do not believe she will appreciate your mockery.”

It is Clarke’s turn to keep watch that night. She gazes up into the sky, the moon calms her. Sometimes if she looks close enough, she can make out a brooding face that stares back at her.

Her head turns to the sleeping bodies across from her and she realizes they somehow represent each of the boys. Murphy sleeps with his hands around his face, which is the way he is also acting in real life: closed off, not bothering to be seen. Bellamy is laying on his back, but his eyes are twitching from time to time. Maybe he is having a nightmare. Or, he is dreaming about his days on the ground.

There is crack above her and Clarke’s head snaps up, eyes narrowed. Silence falls over them. But she grew up with Trikru and she know exactly how it feels to be watched. Her eyes lift to the trees and there - she spots them, a pair of eyes that immediately snap shut.

Goosebumps run across her spine as she inches for the dagger in her boots. Her heart starts thundering because she knows, she knows they are waiting for the moment to attack and she cannot give them the opportunity.

“Bellamy,” she whispers, kicking his leg. “Bellamy, wake up.”

His eyes flutter open in the same moment she hears the warrior cry behind her. Wrong move.

Even though she sees him coming, the warrior still lands a hit in her face and sends her staggering back. Next to her Bellamy has jumped to his feet and is trying to fight off another pair of fists. The warrior takes another big swing at Clarke but she manages to escape this one by ducking her head and ramming her elbow into his chin. He curses and regards her with bared teeth.

“Anya called ceasefire,” she tells him, her chest heaving. “You’re disobeying orders.”

“You’re one to talk about disobeying, sleeping with the enemy!”

Clarke shakes her head, pressing her lips together. It feels like they are never going to understand the difference between refusing to do something because it’s wrong and refusing it because of one’s need for revenge or chaos or other bullshit. “That’s not the same.” He shoots her a tight-lipped smile before reaching for his sword.

“You are gonna pay for what you did.”

Her confusion doesn’t stop her from getting her own blade - it’s thinner and longer than his thick sword and definitely not her prefered choice of weapon, but in situations like this Clarke has to rely on it. “You can still end this,” she says, blade drawn.

“Only your death can,” he says and strikes, aiming for her stomach. Although he is much bigger, Clarke is quicker and smarter than him. She dodges his attempts to gut her, still trying to reason with him in the meantime.

“You burned down my entire village,” he screams, spit flying from his mouth. Finally, it dawns on her. He is from the village they accidentally burnt down with the flares. “Trikru will see what you are really made of!”

For a moment Clarke is not careful and looks over to Bellamy. She sees him on the ground with hands around his neck and a feeling of deep fear washes over her. Her opponent screams, raising his swords and everything happens at once.

Out of the corner of her eye Clarke notices the gun lying a few feet away from him. Strangely enough the warrior who is currently trying to strangle Bellamy scoots it closer to him so that he is able to reach it. At the same time the man kicks her in the stomach so that she flies back. The edge of the sword above her. Bellamy picks up the gun and aims it. Clarke wants to stop him but she is about to be killed. The second the warrior sinks down his swords, she rolls over to the side and kicks at his feet.

“Bellamy, don’t -” she starts, but a shot rings through the air. Clarke opens her mouth and then a second one is heard, aimed at her head - or maybe something above her. Swinging around, she sees the warrior. His hands are still raised with the sword, right above her head. He was about to pierce through her when Bellamy fired the shot.

It’s awfully quiet when Clarke sinks to her knees, the pain and the exhaustion finally catching up, and stares at Bellamy. He is half leaning against a tree, panting, his hands still wrapped around the gun.

She crawls over, her palm touching his thigh as she sinks down next to him. “Are you okay?”

“Are you?” he says, gaze slight bewildered.

“Thanks to you, yes.” Bellamy blinks and finally looks at the gun. There are splatters of blood on it, on his hands too. “I killed them.”

Clarke reaches out and lays her hand on top of his, his eyes snapping up to her, wide. “Bellamy,” she says, shaking her head. “It was the only choice.”

“He was going to stab you -”

“I know.”

“I had to.”

She nods again, her thumb swiping across the rough skin on his hands in a soft manner. “They wanted you to use the gun, Bellamy. So that they could blame the Skypeople and destroy the alliance.” He nods, shaky, and she takes the gun from him to throw it a few feet away. “You’re okay.”

It takes him a few seconds to process everything but eventually he exhales. He still looks a bit shaken up, but mostly tired as he lets his head fall against the tree with a sigh.

“Why do even bother? Look how many people died at my hand alone.”

“Because,” she presses. “It’s the only way to make sure that we’ll survive.”

“But this -“ his hand waves to the dead bodies. “And back at the Dropship…”

“We’ll explain it to her.”

“I don’t know if that will be enough, Clarke.”

“It will,” Clarke says, even though doubts start to surface inside her as well. “We just have to - I don’t know, keep going.” With a groan of pain, she gets on her feet and looks around the scene; the feeling that something is not right gnawing at her. “We have to rest and head off as soon as we’re ready and -“ her gaze stays on the sleeping spots in front of her. She looks to her right, then to her left and it dawns on her. What is missing. “Bellamy,” she says.

“Yeah?” He is still leaning against the tree, looking miserable.

“Murphy. He is gone.”

That finally snaps him back to reality and he wipes at his nose, sniffing. “Right.”

 

x

 

 

“This is fucking stupid.”  
  
Clarke looks up from where she is lying on the grass as Bellamy dips his hands into puddle, grumbling to himself. “It is the only way." Still, she cannot fight the smile that makes her way onto her lips.  
  
“I can think of a thousand others -“ He hesitates a moment before rubbing the dirt and mud all over his face, disgusted by it. “- but you refused to listen to any of them.”  
  
“Believe me. It will work.”  
  
Done with his beautiful work, he shoots her a humorless glare. Bellamy looks funny with the dirt all over his face and his hair slick with mud. Not to mention the piece of rag he is wearing around his chest. But they had to make it believable.  
  
“So,” he says after slumping down next to her. “Now we go in?”  
  
“No, now we wait.”  
  
Bellamy blinks a couple of times, irritated. “You’re telling me I had to bathe in mud right only to wait until we even can get him?”  
  
With a small frown she waves him off. “You had to be ready. There will be not much time once we see him.”  
  
It took them almost a whole day to find Murphy, being held behind a ratty tavern where the warrior that took him is currently enjoying himself. And then they had to figure out how to free Murphy from the men sitting a few feet away. They keep giving him dirty looks now and then, so it's not the easiest job to just get him.  
  
The plan Clarke developed didn’t particularly appeal to Bellamy. Which was that he should dress up, or at least appear, as a Trikru warrior and distract the men while Clarke unties Murphy.  
  
The problem is that the grounder, who took Murphy and was there when Bellamy and Clarke fought for their life, is currently leaning against the cabin outside. The whole time they were trying to come up with something, he was in the tavern, and now he came out. And since he could identify both of them, attacking now would not only be bold but stupid.  
  
Half an hour passes and he remains unmoved, outside.  
  
„Maybe we just need a new plan,“ Bellamy says after a while.  
  
„Are you scared, Bellamy?" It's meant to be light teasing but instead his face hardens.  
  
„I‘m not scared.“  
  
She raises her brow „You are not?“  
  
„No,“ he persists, clenching his jaw. „I just - it doesn‘t make sense, okay? You are the grounder, so why don‘t you play around and I get Murphy?“  
  
„Because. Some of these people could recognize me and you know it.“  
  
„Yeah,“ he huffs, shaking his head as he looks at the tavern in the distance. „Pathetic excuses.“  
  
Trying to be playful and easy, she bumps her shoulder against his. Clarke has seen Raven or Octavia do it with him and figures this was a moment where she could do that. But the look Bellamy gives her is strange.  
  
„What?“  
  
His eyes study her before he coughs a little, clearing his throat. „Nothing.“ It doesn't very convincing. „I don't know,“ he shrugs, averting his gaze. „Sometimes I forget that you‘re one of them, a grounder, and other times I’m painfully aware of it..“  
  
Aside from the usual feelings when it comes to Bellamy something else stirs up in her, the unpleasant feeling of guilt she manages to repress most of the time. Now, though. Now it feels like it‘s gushing out all at once and she has to force herself to look away.  
  
Is it right for her to hide her real upbringing? To keep it from Bellamy that she did too come from the sky, but thirteen years earlier. As a matter of principle it would not change anything, like Ergus told her that one time. She resents herself for even thinking in the same manner as him. But it holds truth. And yet, asking herself this question has mean that it cannot be right.  
  
„Bellamy,“ he glances to her from the side, an easy expression gracing his features. „I have to tell you something -“ Her gaze momentarily slides to the tavern and she notices the warrior is gone. „He is gone. Go, Bellamy. Now.“  
  
He does while she keeps herself hidden. Only when he arrives at the table of the other men does she take the same direction,instead heading for Murphy, though.  
  
Clarke hides behind a bush to wait out for the perfect moment; a couple of minutes pass before she hears aggravated voices. Peaking up she sees that the men are standing in a circle, their backs to her which is what she was waiting for but her heart sinks at the same time. What if she put Bellamy in unnecessary danger?  
  
Murphy has a dirty cloth in his mouth and his hands are tied to the rails. Aside from that he looks fine -absolutely pissed to but fine. She hurries over to him and shushes his as soon as he removes the gag. “We’re getting you out of here,” she whispers, working on his shackles. “Stay quiet and move quick.” The shackles are far more difficult to untie than she imagined and she curses under her breath. She lets out a frustrated growl and reaches for her sword.  
  
“Whoa, Clarke,” Murphy hisses. “What are you doing?”  
  
“What do you think?” Annoyed that he would even think she wants to hurt him, she swings the sword across the material and it finally breaks free.  
  
Murphy immediately jumps up and turns to the side of the hill, but Clarke tries to find Bellam the crowd.. She can’t see him and that worries her.  
  
“C’mon, we have to go!”  
  
She shakes her head, worrying her lip. “You run,” Clarke says to Murphy. “Go to the nearest river. We will meet you there.” There is a flicker of hesitation in his eyes like part of him wants to stay and fight for Bellamy with her. His survivor’s instinct is bigger, though, and he gives her a small nod before sprinting off.  
  
She got this.  
  
Sneaking to the tavern’s yard, she finally sees what’s going on. The men are circling Bellamy and he already has blood coming out of his nose, his stance defensive and wary as he glances at each of the warriors. Clarke is too late to prevent him from getting injured again, but not too late to get him out.  
  
“Heya,” she shouts across the place and some heads whip around to glower at her. Clarke shoots them a cheeky smirk, holding her sword. “Breik em au. Gon ho we, gona.” Let him go. Go home, warriors.  
  
“Sen you swis daun, gada.” It’s the biggest and tallest one of all and he has the audacity to laugh like this is all a big joke to him. Put down your sword, girl.  
  
To reciprocate his provocative behavior she sends him an equally cold smile. “You vout in dison ste leyos?” You think this is funny? “I’ll show you funny,” she murmurs under her breath before letting out a warrior’s cry and charging for him.  
  
He holds the first strike but doesn’t expect the dagger in her other hand that cuts deep into the flesh in his stomach. “Hit ai op raun joken gapa-de,” she spits at him before turning to the others. Bellamy narrows his eyes, gritting his teeth before using their distracted gazes to ram his elbow into the guy holding him.  
  
Two of them attack her, fists flying. The other one pushing Bellamy away. It's a series of jab and duck as they fight back to back until two of them are down. Grabbing a braid of her last one, she pulls him close and cuts his arm. He tries to retaliate by aiming her fists at her face but he drops to the ground before that. Bellamy stands behind him, his chest falling and rising as he looks at the crumpled bodies. Not dead, but unconscious.  
  
Panting Clarke touches Bellamy’s arm, almost leaning on him as they regard the scene. „Good save,“ she breathes, holding on to her back.  
  
„You too.“  
  
(Later he asks her what she said to the man after stabbing him, and will not stop laughing when she tells him it was “Meet me in the fucking pit.” She does not comprehend why, but smiles back as he begs her to teach him.)  
  
They meet Murphy at the river as planned. Even though they have lost an entire day, Clarke convinces the boys to rest for an hour and use the river to bathe. Especially Bellamy, with dried mud all over his skin, is in need of one.  
  
Murphy tells them they can go first while he stands watch and although she would rather not leave him alone anytime soon, she agrees. Too tired to fight him on this. So her and Bellamy step down to the river together.  
  
Clarke shrugs off her clothing and dips into the water, not paying attention to Bellamy nearby.  
  
“Hey, do you have something for the hair?” he asks her while he is scrubbing at his skin and she emerges from the depth of the water to take a look at it. However, when Bellamy sees her he freezes for a solid second, eyes wide, before he spins around, clearing his throat. “Jesus, Clarke. I - I’m sorry I didn’t know -“  
  
She frowns, listening to his flustered blabbering. It’s like he is timid or something. “Know what?”  
  
“You’re naked,” he says, voice going uncharacteristically shrill.  
  
“So? Do you take bathes in your clothes?”  
  
“Well, no,” Bellamy snaps, whipping his head around to glare but immediately turns around again like he forgot that she is bare. “But - I don’t know, we usually warn each other before getting butt naked, you know?”  
  
“No, I don’t,” she tells him genuinely and sighs. “Do you need help with your hair, or is my nakedness too terrifying to handle?”  
  
Bellamy huffs but lets her help him untangle his dirt ridden hair, pointedly staring ahead of him. “It’s called being a gentleman, by the way.”  
  
“A man who is gentle? For not looking?”  
  
“Something like that. It's the polite thing to do, personal space and all that.”  
  
“Ah,” she nods, sliding her fingers through his curls one last time. “I guess I will try to be less bare then next time.”  
  
Bellamy turns around, still averting his gaze from anything beneath her chin. “By all means, do whatever the hell you want, princess. I don’t care.”  
  
Nodding, her eyes flicker down for an instant unlike his - noticing the well built muscles on his stomach. Unlike her he is wearing black boxer briefs, but. It is a strange feeling. Clarke has felt it a couple of times when she was watching a beautiful girl in her village. The sudden desire to relax.  
  
"See something you like?"  
  
Her gaze snaps back up as soon as the words leave his lips and she curses herself, and him. It’s too late though because Bellamy is already smirking at her like he knows exactly what she was just thinking. It feels both embarrassing and exhilarating.  
  
From there on it’s another two days to Polis which are thankfully less exciting and adventurous. Clarke teaches them basic phrases in Trig like I’m a skyperson and We come in peace and tells them about the history of the flame. In return they talk about life in the sky. She devours every detail with hungry interest even though neither of them has little good to say about it, both not associating happy times with it. The Ark - their home.  
  
She decides without blinking, halting in her steps. “I have to tell you something.”  
  
They look at her, brows raised but she cannot bring herself to utter the words. “Spit it out,” Murphy says with a shrug. “Did you betray us? Are we willingly walking into a death trap?”  
  
“No.” She shakes her head with a small huff of laughter. “No, it’s not that. It’s about me,” she says slowly and raises her gaze to look at them. “About where I came from.”  
  
Bellamy furrows his brows, watching her.  
  
She takes a deep breath, closes her eyes and blurts it out, quick and painless, “I’m from the sky.”  
  
There is a moment of defining silence in which they both stare at her, confused. “You - you’re from the Ark?” Bellamy asks, breaking the uncomfortable silence. “How?”  
  
“I don’t know,” she stammers helplessly, touching her temple. “I grew up here, with Trikru but a while ago I discovered that my parents and I… we came from the sky and landed on Trigeda’s territory.” A shadow sinks over her heart and she presses out a smile, sad, bitter. “They killed my parents. Took me in and never told me the truth.”  
  
Murphy is the first to talk, muttering, “Fucking grounders” which makes her laugh even though there are tears burning behind her lids. It’s the first time saying it out loud to the people she came from and it’s relieving and frightening at the same time. She wipes her tears away, glancing to Bellamy who still hasn’t said anything.  
  
“I’m - I’m sorry for not telling you sooner,” she starts but Bellamy cuts her off, sharp.  
  
“Would you have made a different choice?”  
  
She frowns. “What?”  
  
“If you weren’t from the Ark,” he clarifies, fixing her with an intense look. “Would you have still gone against your people? Help us?”  
  
“Yes,” she says without thinking about it. “Joining you -” she shakes her head, searching for the right words. “- it was never about me, but about the right thing.”  
  
“Good. Then you don’t have to be sorry for not telling us. It doesn’t matter.”  
  
Clarke breathes a sigh of relief, feeling like a huge weight has been lifted off her shoulders. Neither Murphy nor Bellamy don’t mention the subject again. Perhaps they think it makes her sad or very personal which is true. Do not get her wrong, of course she is very pleased with herself to have finally managed to share this secret that she has been holding on to for far too long. But she is not quite ready to dive into it yet. For now it is still too achy, a little bit too raw.  
  
Instead they go over the plan that they will propose to the Commander. It is not long anymore until they reach Polis.  
  
“And what if it’s all for nothing?” Murphy huffs dryly. “And she tells us to fuck off?”  
  
Clarke gulps, wrapping her hand around the dagger in her pants and feeling the reassuring cold material of it. There’s an answer in her head but Bellamy gets ahead of her.  
  
“We’re probably all gonna die then. But at least we go down fighting.”  
  
It is when they are about to cross borders to the city of the Commander when they hear it. A shattering, tremendous noise from the sky that comes from a ship heading to the ground. Her gaze follows it with excitement but she feels Bellamy tense next to her.  
  
“Something’s wrong,” he says.  
  
“Ship is too fucking fast,” Murphy agrees with a scowl. “The thing is gonna explode.”  
  
It does. Somewhere far away in the darkened distance.  
  
Clarke slowly turns to the boys, swallowing. “No one’s coming from your people?”  
  
“I think they all just burned to a crisp,” Murphy says, pressing his lips together. “So what now?”  
  
She glances at Bellamy who looks equally clueless, upset even. “We go to Polis, fast and hope that the plan will work regardless.” Clarke knows it’s barely a plan. That without the resources the Skypeople should have brought everything is bound to crumble, but they cannot allow themselves to start having doubts. Not when they have come this far.  
  
An hour later they finally arrive, standing in front of the tower and looking upwards where it almost disappears in the sky.  
  
She hears Murphy murmur, “neat” and smiles to herself.  
  
“How the fuck did this thing survive a nuclear apocalypse?”  
  
Clarke looks at Bellamy, shrugging. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”  
  
He nods, reluctantly but nods. The market and the streets of Polis aren’t as crowded as in daylight, but there are still plenty of people who are taking strolls, selling delicious bugs or trading different pieces of clothing. Nobody even notices the outsiders.  
  
“Okay, so the Commander is upstairs -” she nods her head to the top of the tower. “- I will talk to the guards over there so that they will allow is in. You two should stay here and not do anything stupid.”  
  
“Stupid? Us?” Murphy echoes, smirking.  
  
It’s not easy to convince the guards to let them inside let alone speak to Heda. Since it’s already past dawn the hearings are long over, but Clarke is very persistent.  
  
“Anya kom Trikru sent us,” she presses, seizing them down with a stare. “It’s about Skaikru. Meija!”  
  
Finally the guard in front of her shows a reaction and turns around to say something to another guard before returning his hard gaze to her.  
  
“You have the leader of Skaikru with you?”  
  
She nods.  
  
“Come forward with him. Heda will see you now.”  
  
Clarke waves Bellamy and Murphy over who come to stand next to her, both silent and tense.  
  
“Which one?”

 

“Him,” she says, gripping the material of Bellamy's jacket. His arm is tense, basically waiting for something to go wrong.

“Then you two follow me,” the guard orders and intends to turn around without another word.

“What about him?” She moves her head towards Murphy. “He is with us.”

“Only two,” the guard says, unimpressed and annoyed before leaving her no to choice but to follow him.

“Go,” Murphy shrugs, rolling his eyes. “I’ll be here, enjoying the streets of grounder New York.”

Clarke and Bellamy are taken to a room with an even bigger guard, dressed in bold armor and holding spear and axe in his hands. His hard stare lands on them and he orders them to free themselves of any weapons. They left their guns in a bush before entering Polis in ordner to not attract any attention, so they only have knives and daggers left. Clarke still sees Bellamy hesitate to leave them here, but she shoots him a pointed look and they do exactly as the guard says. He checks them if there is anything left but it isn’t.

After that they step into a tiny elevator which takes them up to Heda and Clarke starts to feel her heart hammering in her chest. When she glances to Bellamy he looks calm, ready and he gives her a reassuring nod. This is their only chance to ensure the survival of their people, it says and she raises her chin in return. They can do this, and they will.

They arrive at the top and are led along a hallway, lit with torches and flames, a guard on both of their sides. There is a gigantic door that opens from inside and they step into a room that she guesses is the throne room. Since it has a throne.

Heda is standing on on the top of the couple of stairs that lead to her throne, hands behind her back. She is wearing similar clothes like the ones on her ascension anniversary. The stare she greets them with is vigorous.

„Monin. What has brought you here?“

„Ai laik Clarke kom -“ she starts but pauses when she realizes that she doesn‘t know. She doesn‘t know what to say, if she is Trikru or Skaikru. Maybe even Nokru. „,I um -“

„I remember you,“ Heda cuts in before she is able to stammer out another helpless attempt to define her belonging, and takes a step closer, mustering her. „You were in TonDC at the nightblood ceremony. You are Trikru - like me.“

„Actually, I found out I came from the sky...“

The Commander raises a condemning brow. „So you let your blood define who you are? Even though you grew up in Trikru, were raised in Trikru and trained in Trikru.“ She does not make it sound like a question, more like an accusation and Clarke admires that particular skill. Aside from the fact that it scares her.

„That is not the reason. There are ways that I do not agree with..“

„Is that so,“ Lexa hums and her gaze wanders over to Bellamy. „And you are?“

„Bellamy Blake,“ he says easily. „Skyperson.“

„He is the leader of Skaikru,“ Clarke clarifies.

„So you are the infamous Skaikru leader,“ Lexa says slowly, taking a step towards him „You‘ve been causing me trouble, Belomi kom Skaikru.“

„We didn‘t do anything,“ he snaps and Clarke elbows him, reminding him of the person he is standing in front of. „I mean,“ he coughs. „That was never our intention. Apologies, Commander.“

„You say that was not your intention, and yet you burned down a whole village with your rockets.“

„We didn‘t know that would happen -”

„And yet,“ she continues, voice unwavering. „You have killed ten of my warriors outside your wall. You have disobeyed orders. You created chaos and caused trouble in my clans. And now another ship of yours has destroyed a whole village with hundreds of people. These are all acts of war, Belomi.“

The ship must have crashed on a village, Clarke concludes and sighs. This is not in their favor.

„No, these were acts of survival,“ he retorts. „None of us wanted to do these things. Believe me when I say I‘m sorry, because I am. I am every time I close my eyes and see the faces of the people that have died through my hand. I am sorry, but not for defending my people’s right to live. If you attack, we fight back. And the ship that destroyed your village? We didn’t know about that. It’s not our fault.“

„That is all good and well, but it does not change what happened. As a leader yourself, would you trust the people that repeatedly attacked and killed your warriors? That are responsible for villages burning to the ground? Would you trust them and risk losing the trust of your own people?“

„Yeah. I’m doing it right now. You started the killing, you threw a spear at an innocent seventeen year old kid and killed ten others. You refused to cooperate and end it. You sentenced us all to death, ninety children of which the the majority doesn’t have a clue what they did wrong.“

„I was protecting my people,“ Lexa says.

„So was I.“

There is a moment of silence, the Commander glaring at Bellamy. „So you are saying I should help you and endanger the alliance of the twelve clans?“

„Yes, Heda,“ Clarke jumps in, raising her chin.„You are known to be strong and wise but you are also compassionate.” The leader in question narrows her eyes. “You let Azgeda into your coalition even after the atrocities they committed. Give us a chance to prove that we are more than intruders that invaded your lands.“

Her gaze lands on her and she takes a step in her direction. „You speak as if you started this chaos but that it is not the truth. You are not one of them, Clarke. Not yet.“

Clarke feels Bellamy tensing next to her so she takes a breath and lets her fingers brush against his hand, subtle but with meaning.

„No offense, Heda, but this is as much my priority as it is theirs. I came here for them and I stand here with them.”

“It is not too late to make the right decision,” Heda continues as if she didn’t say a damn thing. She opens her mouth to say something but Bellamy is faster.

“I think Clarke made it clear what she wants,” he says. „She belongs with us.“

For a moment Clarke is afraid Bellamy‘s harsh tone will have consequences because this is the Commander after all and the Commander does not let people speak to her like that. She holds her breath but Lexa only nods, face impassive.

„I see. Very well then, you have made your choice, Clarke kom Skaikru.“ It sounds strange, even foreign but maybe this is the right thing. Lexa climbs up the steps to her throne and sits down, her head tilting as she regards them „So you stand before me and demand that my army does not attack you. You demand me to trust you not to kill any more of my people. What do you offer me in return?“

Bellamy takes a breath, looks at Clarke before he speaks and she gives him a small nod.

“We can help you defeat Mount Weather.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm currently falling half asleep as I'm posting this, so I don't have much to say. 
> 
> Thank you so much to the people who have comments and kudos - you are making a girl's day with that. I will appreciate it if you tell me what you thought about this one, too. 
> 
> Also, we have still so much to go and I can promise you: it will get very Bellarky after this chapter so stay tuned. (I can only say 'bed sharing' *wink wink*)


	4. Chapter 4

**_IV/V_ **

 

Clarke and Bellamy get shown to their chamber after a very long and drawn out strategy meeting about their plan to defeat Mount Weather once and for all. The Commander tells her subjects to get Murphy as well but for some reason he gets a separate room while Clarke and Bellamy - well, they have to share.

Her gaze wanders around the chamber upon entering. It’s not huge but it has decent sized windows, a nightstand on each side, lots of candles and torches and a medium-sized bed. One bed.

“This looks,” she starts, taking a few steps and then glancing to Bellamy. “...nice.”

Do not get her wrong, Clarke is actually thrilled to be able to sleep in a real bed. She hasn’t done that ever. Its size is however not that big, enough for two people but barely. She doesn’t mind sharing it with Bellamy, but it is a bit... strange.

“Yeah,” Bellamy nods. “Very fancy.” With a tired sigh he plops down on it, his hands ghosting across the sheets like he is afraid to touch it. A giddy expression graceshis features as she watches him fall back. Clarke smiles to herself before sitting down next to him. Understandable why he looks so happy, it’s very soft.

“I can’t believe she actually agreed to work with us.”

Bellamy lets out a puff of breath but his eyes remain closed. “Yeah, now we only have to actually win against fucking Mount Weather. Easy peasy.” Before she can stop herself Clarke giggles like a five year old child. Sue her, but this whole situation seems to unreal. They are in Polis and the Commander is willing to fight side by side with them and they are lying on a fluffy bed with thirteen pillows. Maybe she ate one of those hallucinogenic nuts.

“We should somehow inform the others, shouldn’t we?” she says after a couple of peaceful minutes.

“We should,” he says, voice drifting away at the end. “Let’s just send Murphy.”

“And let him get taken again?”

“Yeah, do that.” He is saying it like he’s not even listening and when she glances at him his eyelids flutter shut.

Shaking her head with a small smile, Clarke mirrors him and lies down as well. The surface underneath them is so soft and cozy, she immediately understands why he is currently drifting away next to her. In a matter of minutes she does, too.

Clarke gets woken up by a loud knock on the door and jerks up, her hand reaching for her dagger, that is not there, by instinct. For a few moments she believes to be back at the ship site of the hundred, hearing gunshots. Then Bellamy touches her arm, giving her a worried but also very hazy look and she remembers where she is.

There is another persistent knock, and she sighs. “Come in!”

Murphy steps in, his eyes wandering around their room before settling on the pair. “Huh, nice suit you got here.”

“Very,” Bellamy grunts, getting up and stretching his limbs. “What’s going on?”

“Nothin’ just wanted to check on you two. We have a plan here?”

“The plan is to work with the Commander,” Clarke mutters, still sitting on the bed. They haven't been asleep for long because the soft morning light is still shining through the window. But she feels like she woke up from a sleep that lasted ten years, and it's very heavy on her chest.

“Obvi'. But how long are we staying? What about the others?”

They decide to discuss this while going out and getting something to eat at the Market.

Someone needs to go back and stand their ground at the camp that much is clear. Although they also need to get a few people here, like Raven and Monty who are essential personal. Murphy wanders off to a vendor at some point and indulges in a conversation with her instead of listening to her suggestions.

“How is Murphy making friends faster than us?” Bellamy asks, brows furrowed.

“We’re not here to make friends -”

“Princess,” Bellamy sighs and suddenly touches her shoulder as he looks at her. “The Commander is working with us. For now we’re in the clear. Try to relax for a night, have some fun.”

Fun? She does not know what that actually means. Life on the ground has never meant to be fun, it was always work, fight, survive but never have fun. Scowling, she says, “That would be irresponsible in times of war.”

“Then be irresponsible." There's this look on his face like he isn't even sure what he's saying himself. When she keeps frowning at him he sighs and rolls his eyes. "Whatever. We'll practice that one day, princess."

Before she can retort anything Murphy rejoins them with a smug grin on his face. „I‘ve figured out who goes back to the dropship," he announces.

Bellamy raises his brows.

„Who?“ Clarke asks.

„Me.“ Clarke and Bellamy remain as puzzled as seconds before. „And her,“ he adds, nudging his head towards the girl with the face tattoos, packing her fish. After neither of them says anything, he starts glaring. „Or what, is that against the rules that we don‘t have?“

„We‘re trying to keep you all alive,“ Bellamy tells him, rolling his eyes, „Not dictating who or what you‘re doing.“

„Thanks man. I knew you‘d have my back.“ Murphy slaps him on the back, a gesture she has seen a few times but does not comprehend. And so the question about who is going back is settled before they even asked it.

"Keep an eye out for Octavia while you're there. Don't let her do anything dangerous or stupid," is what Bellamy tells Murphy as they go back to the tower. Murphy scoffs at that. 

"Like she will listen to _me_."

His trip back starts the next day while Clarke and Bellamy will stay in Polis and work out the plan against the Mountain with Heda and the other clan‘s leaders.

After returning to their chamber, Clarke is reminded of the fact that they have to share the bed. By the look of Bellamy‘s expression - a hint of uncertainty in his otherwise smug appearance - he is thinking the same.

„We could ask the Heda,“ she suggests, giving him a look to see what he thinks. But he does not appear to be too convinced.

„I think she‘s got more important things to do than organizing us another room.“ Which is not false. „I could sleep on the floor. If you want, I mean.“

„No, no,“ she says, frowning. „We are both mature people, Bellamy. We can survive sleeping in the same bed.“

„Well then.“ He sits down on the side closer to the window and starts taking off his shoes. „But don‘t complain if I start snoring.“

Before going to bed she needs to relieve herself and finds a working toilet at the end of the hallway - also a luxury she is not used to. When she comes back Bellamy is already settled into bed, not sleeping yet. She undresses herself silently until she is in her undergarments and slips into the bed next to him. For a moment she lies there, still.

“Can you -,“ she starts and turns around so she can face Bellamy, „- can you tell me something about the Ark?“

He looks at her, a bit surprised. „What do you want to know, princess?“

„Anything. Ever since I found out, I have been wondering... what it would have been like to, uh, live there instead of here.“

„Well,“ he hums before turning to her and propping himself up on an elbow. “We had showers, working toilets, even TVs, so that was nice.”

“TVs?”

“Yeah, the things people used to watch movies on in the past.”

“Ah, yes,” she murmurs. “I’ve heard about those. Even saw one once, although it wasn’t working of course." Bellamy smiles a little. “What about the ground?” she wants to know. “How did it look like from up there?”

“Untouchable, beautiful… It’s funny. I used to dream about returning to earth, breath real air, swim in the water and all that. But it’s been a constant fight for survival since we landed. I don’t even know if I ever did those things I dreamt about.”

How unfair it must be to wonder about stepping on earth for decades but once you finally arrive, death follows you like a shadow. At least Clarke got to enjoy its perks for a while, years of peace and nature. “Would you go back? If you could.”

“No,” he says without hesitation. “On the ark you made one small mistake and were floated or locked up like some animal. Here you get to at least fight for yourself.”

“So I didn’t miss anything up there?”

Bellamy shrugs, considering. “Besides having a normal childhood,” he tells her with a chuckle, “I don’t think you did. Maybe the education or sciency aspects of live, but not much.”

„Hey, I did have a normal childhood,” she says with a playful scowl. “It was simply different than yours.”

“Did you have a stuffed animal?”

“A what?”

He nods like she confirmed something he never asked. “So you didn’t.”

"Whatever you say Bellamy." Clarke feels too tired to ask him what it is or why he thinks so. Her eyelids flutter closed and she sighs, relishing in the warmth of the sheets. “Night, Clarke,” she hears next to her and then the darkness pulls her in

When she wakes up, Clarke is a little confused. For one she is not on the left side of the bed anymore, instead spread out in the middle. Then there is an arm around her waist and feet tangled with hers. And lastly, it feels good.

All of it is very strange.

Being embraced by Bellamy is very strange but she is helplessly aware of the fact that she has never felt so safe and peaceful like she does now. The last time she felt like this was when - Clarke swallows - when her father used to hug her. Or, that is how she remembers the only memories of him.

She lets out a breath and looks at Bellamy’s sleeping form inches away from herself. He has a lot freckles, she notices. So many.

“You’re staring,” he suddenly grumbles, eyes still closed and Clarke jerks up, slapping the hand that was touching her seconds ago.

“You’re awake?” She only gets an incoherent grunt in return so she scrambles out of bed and starts pulling on her pants. “You should get up soon. The meetings always start early.” Clarke prays he does not notice the blush covering her cheeks when she pushes herself off the bed and goes to the door. It's bad enough that he saw her watching him while she was in his arms, he doesn't need to know that she is embarrassed as well. She is a warrior. A healer. A very proud and independent woman whose heart does not flutter when a man touches her.

“It’s unfair to give us such a bed and then don’t let us sleep in it more than a couple of hours.” Bellamy opens his eyes, scratches them but remains lying. Without another word she leaves the room, but cannot help but smile to herself. Who knew that he was such a slug.

He joins the meeting five minutes later than Clarke, his hair sticking up to all sides but at least dressed and awake. The commander acknowledges him with a nod before continuing with the speech to her advisers. Bellamy's gaze meets hers across the room but they both look away immediately. So much about mature adults.

The war generals of all twelve clans will be arriving in the following days, including Anya and Indra from Trikru. She would lie to herself if she said that she was not nervous to see them again. But she tries to distract herself by directing all her focus on the war.

„The most important thing is to figure out how the mountain works,“ Bellamy says to Heda. „From then on it‘s just a matter of details how it will go down.“

Heda nods. „Very well. The mountain has cast a shadow over our lands for too long, it is time for it to fall.“

„Uh yeah.“ Bellamy nods with a frown, bewildered by her enthusiasm. „So we need someone who has been there, someone who escaped.“

Clarke never heard of someone who managed to survive, let alone escape the Mountain without turning into a lifeless, man eating monster. So she is very surprised when the Commander says, „There is a man.“

A few of her advisers start murmuring among each other. The bald man, who Clarke believes to be her fleimkeipa, gives her a surprised look from the side. Heda raises her hand and the room goes quiet again. “Prince Roan kom Azgeda,” she declares, staring at Bellamy. “I have heard Mountain Men captured him when he was a boy yet he succeeded in fleeing and surviving unharmed. I believe that is the man you are looking for.”

“But Heda,” the fleimkepa behind her says and leans down to speak into her ear. “Queen Naia will never agree to this! The prince is banished.”

“Naia will have to come terms with it if she wishes the Mountain to take her people no more ,” the Commander snaps and returns her gaze to Bellamy and Clarke. “Are there more doings we need?”

“No, that’s all,” Bellamy says.

“Very well.” Heda stands up from her seat and looks around her people. “The meeting will be carried on once the other clans arrive. I will send out riders for the prince and for your people, Skaikru.”

The room clears and Clarke walks out with a frown on her head. It will take up to a day until everyone arrives, meaning her and Bellamy actually have something like free time.

Bellamy pokes her cheek, eyeing her curiously. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she says but lets out a sigh. “I - I feel so useless doing nothing.”

“You’re not doing nothing.” His brows furrow. “At least not nothing nothing. We have to wait, war takes time apparently.” She agrees with a huff of breath. “You know what I said yesterday about fun?”

Gulping, she glances at him from the side. “Yes?”

“We should try that now.”

His idea of fun is visiting a tavern and buying them beverages - the ones that taste like burning gasoline. She knows some people use it to achieve a more relaxed state of mind, but frankly it is not that common and in her village nobody has ever used it as far as she is aware. The people in Polis probably have wine but the villages do not own that kind of luxury. The only alcohol she ever touched was used as sanitizer to clean wounds and injuries. So this is her first time consuming this beverage.

“Bellamy,” she croaks out after having a gulp. “This is disgusting.”

He only rolls his eyes and pushes the glass closer towards her.

Hours later Clarke’s opinion about alcohol has changed: she loves it. It is the closest thing to magic she has ever encountered and it is amazing.

They are walking, or rather staggering, back to the tower and giggling about a joke Bellamy made. His hand brushes against her now and then and shoots sparks along her spine. Some part of her brain registers the feeling, the way it is makes her feel, but the other part chooses to push the thought away. Not ready to face it whatever it is. She does not even know what it is.

Upstairs in their room Clarke closes the door and leans against it with a content sigh.

“I told you you could use some fun,” Bellamy says with a grin as he plops down on the bed. She returns the smile.

“Perhaps you were right after all, Bellamy Blake.”

He makes a sound from the bed, struggling to get his shoe off his foot. For a longer time than necessary she watches amused, but eventually it occurs to her that she could help him. With her extra pair of hands.

Clarke comes to stand in front of him. “Here,” she murmurs, wrapping her hands around the sole of his boot and tugs at it as hard as she can. His foot breaks free but unfortunately Clarke loses her balance in the process and stumbles backwards until she falls down, straight on her bum. "Ouch," she lets out in a small whimper.

A few seconds later Bellamy is above her, regarding her with a mix worry and amusement. “You okay?”

“Awesome,” she grumbles and slaps his thigh when he starts laughing. “I fell because I helped you to get your shoe off, the least you could do is show some respect.”

Bellamy only laughs harder. It makes her furious. After composing himself he takes a deep breath and offers her his hand that she accepts with a raised chin. He hoists her up so that she comes to stand only inches from him, his smell and his proximity invading her space.

“Thank you,” she breathes at which Bellamy raises a brow. “For helping me up," Clarke clarifies.

“Oh. Thank _you_ for the shoe.”

“You’re welcome.”

His hands is still steadying her waist even though she does not need the help anymore but Clarke doesn’t mind. In fact, she enjoys the weight of them on her skin. “I - I’m…” she starts to say but loses her trail of thoughts, closing her eyes. Bellamy is making her stupid. Or maybe it's his hand on the soft patch of her skin, or his earthy scent that has become familiar by now. He smells _so good_.

“You’re what, Clarke?” he presses and startles her out her thoughts. It feels like his voice has gone two octaves deeper.

When she doesn’t answer immediately his hand twitches, making her shiver where he is touching her. It feels too much suddenly. Clarke takes an abrupt step back. “Going to bed,” she ultimately finishes and goes to sit down on the edge, kicking off her shoes. From the corner of her eyes she sees him frozen for an instant before he jerks his head and scratches the back of his neck.

“That’s for the best,” he agrees.

When they are both under the covers, Clarke feels the need to say something. “Sleep is important,” is what comes out and if she could she would hit her head against a stone for saying something stupid.

“Yeah, sleep is very, uh, important,” Bellamy echoes with a roughened voice for some reason but at least he does not think that she is completely dumb. Neither of them says anything else and at some point Bellamy turns away from her, facing the window and Clarke sighs. They try to not touch each other that night.

x

She was already nervous and fidgeting around when she joined the meeting, but seeing Anya again makes it even worse. The woman that was her mentor once meets her eye for a tiny split of second when she comes in and then returns her focus to the drawn map in front of them.

Heda’s people managed to bring in the lone escapist of the Mountain in a matter of one and a half days and Raven and Monty have arrived, too. The prince is square-built, hair falling over his shoulders and a permanent sneer on his lips. So far the only things she has heard him utter were snide remarks and dry comments. Clarke hopes he will be more useful than that once the work begins.

It’s Skaikru’s job to question Roan and Bellamy takes the lead, asking him about how he got captured, where he was held, what kind of people he had to deal with. Even though the prince talks slowly and adds unnecessary things now and then, they manage to get out a lot of intel and useful information.

“Tell the leaders of the twelve clans the plan, Belomi,” Heda says once the questioning is done and everyone is gathered around the table

Bellamy looks around the different people, all of their focus on him and takes a breath before starting. “We’ll start how to get there first. Mountain Weather is responsible for the acid fog which means we’ll have to switch it off before we attack. Once it’s off, we’re good to go.”

“And how do we do that?” Anya asks, eyes narrowed. Clarke tries to keep her facial expression neutral as she eyes her.

“From the inside.”

“If there’s an on switch, there’s gotta be an off switch,” Raven chimes in. “Monty and me will guide the person through.”

“Continue,” Heda says with a nod.

Once it is clear to step in front of Mount Weather’s door, they need to open it, or as Raven likes to put it “blow that shit up” with the help of an explosive they are going to create. And finally, the army of the twelve clans takes out the leader’s of the Mountain with their associates and frees their people. The details are a lot more complicated but the general idea is easy: disable the fog, get in and win. However, the one thing that they still need is an inside man. A matter that still has to be discussed over the course of next week.

Clarke is staring at the map in front of, brows creased as she goes through the plan again and again when she feels a strong presence next to her. It’s Anya. Straightening her posture Clarke swallows but does not say anything.

“You did good here,” Anya tells her. “If we win this war, we will be free of an enemy of fifty years.”

Clarke glances at Anya who does not return the look but studies the map instead. She did not know what she expected to hear her say, but this was not it. “They had it coming,” is all she retorts. On the other side of the room she can see Bellamy glimpsing at them, jaw flexing as he speaks to Heda.

“I have something to show you, Clarke. If you allow me.”

She crosses her arms, frowning at her. “What is it?”

Anya hesitates, something she rarely does before speaking. “The ship you came with. you and yu seingeda. It is here. I can show you if you wish for that.”

For a moment it feels like a huge weight has been dumped on her chest, making it hard to breathe. “It is here? How?” she asks, voice weak.

“Everything unusual is brought to Polis, you know that.” The last part feels more like an accusation than an explanation as in you are a grounder, it cannot be news to you. But how was she supposed to know that with her clan withholding any and all information from her regarding everything else? She was not allowed to leave the village. She was not allowed to ask more questions than necessary or take part in important decisions. So how can she blame her?

Clarke feels herself growing agitated, tries to calm down by taking a deep breath. “Show me.”

Anya nods and turns to go. When she follows her Bellamy catches her wrist at the door, a scowl in his face. “Clarke, what’s going in? Is she threatening you?”

“No, it’s - “ she swallows and then nudges her head towards Anya. “- can you come with me? It’s something about my parents.” His brows shoot up, but he gives her a silent nod.

They trail after Anya in silence as she leads them downstairs to a room in the basement. It’s full of scrap, most of it looking old and haywire but on the far side of the room, there is the ship. It stands out, being the only thing that does not look completely useless. Looking at it makes the world spin like it sometimes does in her dreams.

_“Hold on tight to me, kiddo,” a voice rings through her head, familiar and yet so distant._

_Clarke sees tiny hands in front of her, that must belong to her, wrap around his arm._

_“Everything’s going to be just fine.”_

_It feels like the world around her is exploding, the thing they are in throwing them from side to side, her mommy’s lifeless body shaking. Clarke reaches out a hand to her, tears spilling across her cheeks._

_“Mommy’s going to be alright,” he shouts across the loud noises and pulls her tighter to him. “We’re all gonna be -”_

_A shrill cry erupts around them, above them, she doesn’t know, but it feels like the ship is screaming as it’s hurtling down with full force. Something starts burning but Clarke blacks out._

_A hand touches her arm and she jerks_ \- “Clarke?”

She opens her eyes. Bellamy is standing in front of her, brows furrowed in worry as he regards her. “Clarke, can you hear me?”

Her throat feels incredibly dry as she croaks out a, “yeah.”

“I was young myself when you came to us,” Anya suddenly says behind her and she turns around to look at her, something stirring up in the pit of her stomach. “Mauri was the one who brought you. Your father had killed a warrior of ours. They found him with a shot through his skull. The first death by a gun in over hundred years.” The way she says the word, gun, shows how much hatred she feels for the weapon, Clarke notes coldly. “It was just. They had to kill your fath-”

“Out,” Clarke bites out, baring her teeth.

“- they had to kill him because he killed one of our own -” Clarke’s hands ball into tight fights as she shoots her a furious look. “ _Jus drein, jus daun_ , Clarke.”

“Get out!” Nothing happens. “I said get out,” she exclaims, chest heaving as she dares Anya to say another word. Her jaw twitches under her burning gaze, but ultimately she breaks the stare and leaves the room.

The second her figure disappears in the doorway, all of the boiling rage leaves her body and all that remains is the ache. Clarke looks back to the ship and lets out a sob.

It looks so old… and broken. But she remembers it. Clarke remembers bits and pieces of crashing down to earth as she clung to her father’s chest. She remembers the sparks and the landing. The weeks that came after.

Her parents. They loved her so much and she loved them just as much.

“Mom,” she lets out and falls to her knees. “Dad…” The pressure that wraps around her heart and squeezes makes her breathless, she thinks she has never felt something like this. “I’m so sorry.”

The world that they discovered all those years ago was so new and wonderful to her that she could not withstand staying still. All the flowers and the wind whistling in the trees. The glowing butterflies that made her feel like she was living in one of these fairytales from the books at home. For the first time in her short life then breathing felt real. How could a human soul not go and explore? It was so, so beautiful.

“I’m sorry,” Clarke repeats, shaking her head over and over. She can say it a thousand times, scream it into the skies and yet it will not change anything that happened.

“Clarke,” she hears behind her and then there’s the familiar weight of Bellamy’s hand on her shoulder as he kneels down next to her. “Why are you apologizing?”

Her breath catches as she looks up into his eyes. “It was me,” she admits “Their deaths are on me.”

“What are you talking about?”

“They told me not go far away,” she tries to say when a sob overcomes her. “I didn’t - I didn’t listen because I wanted to see more flowers. I went away even though they told me not to. A man saw me.” Slowly it dawns on him. “My dad, he -” her voice breaks hand wrapping around a piece of rock on the ground for support. “- he wanted to protect me. He wanted to protect me from them and they killed him and then t-they killed my mother, Bellamy! And - and it is all my fault.”

Bellamy shakes his head. “No, Clarke,” he says. “You were just a child.”

“But if I hadn’t left that day -” she can’t finish the sentence because it would mean… Clarke’s parents would be still alive if she hadn’t left. Alive. The realization overthrows her and she shakes with the heaviness of it. After a few seconds Clarke feels herself being pulled into an embrace and she refuses at first, struggles against him because she does not deserve to be held. She has to be punished for what she has done, and that punishment is pain.

But Bellamy wraps his arms around her and pulls her into his chest and eventually she lets him, too tired as she lets out sob after sob. His hands keep going through her hair as he makes calming sounds although Clarke feels like every nerve in her body is screaming in pain. How can something hurt so much?

“Because losing family means losing part of yourself,” he murmurs into her hair and she realizes she said it out loud. Clarke’s body goes very still all of a sudden and she blinks into his chest, coming to a inevitable conclusion. “I have no family.”

Bellamy pulls back a little to look at her. “You have us - your people.”

It should feel better to hear those words, instead they barely reach her as Clarke stares into nothing. After what could be a minute - or maybe thirty - she stands up, wiping at her eyes and looking at Bellamy. There are no words uttered but he understands that she does not want to be here anymore, does not want to dwell on it longer than she has to. Not when they still have a war to win. People to save that are among the living.

She doesn’t cry about it ever again.

That night while she is lying awake in bed, Clarke feels lonely. It’s not a foreign feeling. Everybody feels lonely from time to time and when she did before she kissed people that made her feel warm and less lonely. But it’s different this time because this time the feeling swallows her whole. She cannot shake the thought that she is completely alone on this entire planet, even though a part of her knows that it’s not true. She has Lincoln, the people back in camp - or at least some of them. She has Bellamy.

Somehow they went from wanting to rip each other’s throat out to hesitant allies to this. She does not know what they are. Partners? Allies? Friends? But she knows that Bellamy was there for her, every time she fell, he came and sat next to her. He is good, to her and to his people. Good.

She takes a breath. “Bellamy?”

Silence greets her and Clarke figures he must be already sleeping but then she hears him stir. “You okay?”

She nods, making a quiet noise. It feels weird to talk when she is facing away from him. “I just -” she sighs, not knowing how to properly phrase what she feels. “Can you hold me?” she finally blurts out and panic rises in her chest as soon as she says it. “I mean - if you like. If you - if you don’t then that’s -”

But Bellamy is already pulling her closer, to his chest, to him. Clarke lets out a breathy sigh when his hands wrap around her torso, his body enveloping her in his warmth and scent. “That okay?” he murmurs, his breath tickling the skin on her neck and she nods.

“Yeah.” More than okay.

x

The next day a miracle happens. Or, Clarke likes to think of it as one because according to Raven it is impossible and that is what miracles are, right? Impossible things that happen.

Their home, the Ark, comes down in it’s full size and glory. She is on the training field with Raven and Bellamy when it happens, their heads craning high up into the sky as the burning ship comes hurtling down towards the ground. Parts and pieces break away. Some explode, others crash down accompanied by a dying light. In a way it reminds Clarke of a meteor shower that happens once in a while.

“What the hell happened up there,” Raven murmurs, following the last and biggest part of the ship that eventually lands somewhere north. It cannot be too far from their own camp.

Bellamy lowers his head and looks at them. “I guess we’ll find out soon enough.”

Heda lets them be escorted to her as soon as the news break, the lines on her face hard as she regards Bellamy. “Your people,” she says and cocks a brow, “Will they respect the terms and conditions you have set up with us?”

Bellamy nods. “I will make them.”

Her adviser, the one with the bald head, huffs at that and leans down to her. “He cannot know that, Heda. Look at him -” his hand waves over Bellamy. “- he’s just a boy.” But Bellamy’s determined expression doesn’t falter, although she can see the shadow of a scowl on his face.

“And am I not just a girl?” She snaps, shooting him a glare. “He is a leader, Titus, same as me. I believe he will keep his word.”

“But Heda -”

“Will you, Belomi kom Skaikru?”

“I will,” he says easily, unimpressed by the doubting looks Titus is shooting him.

“Besides,” Clarke adds, crossing her arms. “There is a lot Skaikru can provide us with: farming, healing, building, let alone the necessary equipment to defeat the Mountain.”

Heda gives a tiny nod before standing up, chin high. “I will send out riders to welcome Skaikru and tell them that we come not to attack, but in peace.”

They have come a far away from attacking children with spears to welcoming them on earth, despite the doubts and worries many of the other clan leaders still have. Clarke is not stupid. She sees the way some of them glare at Bellamy, Raven or Monty even though they are the reason why they finally have a chance at defeating this war. For now though, everyone’s focus is bent on the Mountain which leaves them time to prove Skaikru is not an enemy.

“This Titus guy is such a dick,” Bellamy groans when they plop down on the bed in Raven’s room. For some reason the two brains of the operation got seperate room as well which leaves Clarke still wondering why her and Bellamy didn’t. Not that she minds - he has been helping her fall asleep a lot lately. Still.

“What did he do?” Raven asks, not bothering to look up from the piece of metal scrap she is working on.

Clarke chimes in with a smirk, “Undermined Bellamy’s masculinity.”

“That’s not -” Bellamy starts to protest but the other two are already laughing.

“What did he say? Oh my god, Claaaarke. Tell me.”

“Shut up, Raven.”

“You shut up, Blake.”

“He called him a boy,” she finally says with a giggle and Raven lets out a loud snort, even glancing up. As revenge Bellamy throws a pillow at her head that she catches thanks to her quick reflexes. Clarke eyes him with narrowed eyes and he stares right back.

Next to her Monty clears his throat awkwardly. “Can you hand me the screwdriver?”

“Oh, um sure.” She has to look a little before she finds it and gives it to him. Thanks to the distraction she gets another pillow thrown at her and this time it hits her head. “Oh, come on,” she mutters, picking it up and heading straight at him. Bellamy is smirking when she flings it towards him with as much force as she can manage.

“Hey,” he grunts, scratching his head where it landed, not smirking anymore. “At least I was throwing it gently.”

Raven sighs at the table. “Guys, since these are my pillows that I actually sleep on would be you so kind and do your little kink fighting in your own room? In that beautiful big bed of yours.”

Even though she does not comprehend what she means by kink fighting, she sees that it is most probably something inappropriate by the way the tips of Bellamy’s ears turn pink as he mutters to her to fuck off.

They try to behave after that.

It’s a silent agreement between the two of them not to talk about it. But when they go to bed that night and the other nights Bellamy wraps his arm around her and she always snuggles back into his chest. What can she say, it helps her to breathe easier.

However this time, he seems to be worrying his head over something. Clarke considers asking him but decides to wait until he tells her himself. Or, she hopes he will.

“Clarke?” he says eventually and she relaxes, a giddy feeling washing over her that he decided to share it instead of brooding over it by himself like he usually does.

“Yes, Bellamy?”

“I’ve been thinking -”

“Oh no,” she teases and he slaps her shoulder, but laughs a little.

“Shut up. So again, I’ve been thinking... about the plan and how it all depends on the inside man and I think it’s best if it’s a Skyperson. Easier to fit in, handling the mechanic shit and all that.”

Clarke hums, considering his suggestion. “You make a good point.”

“So uh, it should be me. I should go.”

He says it so nonchalantly that she almost misses it before realizing what he is proposing and rolling over with a scowl. “What? Bellamy, no -”

“It’s my responsibility to do that for us,” he states, voice firm like it has been already decided.

“You’re their leader, Bellamy! They need you to _guide_ them into battle, _inspire_ them, not _die_ for them.”

“I’m not gonna risk one of my people’s life just because Lexa and the others think leaders have some kind of superiority over the rest of their people.” His voice has gained an edge of anger and frustration now. Bellamy thinks it is a good idea and - Clarke feels scared. Out of her mind scared.

“Bellamy,” she whispers, almost pleading. “Who will lead your people when you’re gone?”

He blinks as if this question is stupid. somehow. “You, of course.” Clarke frowns as he reaches out a hand and strokes a strand of her hair behind her ear. “You’re their leader, too, Clarke. Don’t look so surprised.”

“But - I’m not -”

“Yeah, you are,” he nods and smiles a little. “Whether you admit or not, but they’re as much your people as they’re mine, and they think the same about you. You’re one of us.”

Of course, some part of her has long known and accepted this. The hundred - Raven and her permanent cocky smirk, Jasper with his goggles, Monty, Miller and hell, even Murphy, being off doing god knows what. They are all a part of the group that makes her belong to something. To someone.

She closes her eyes for a brief moment and then locks her eyes on him. “Still. Promise me that you will reconsider your decision about the Mountain.” He stays silent, pinching his nose. “ _Bellamy._ I need you to promise me to think about it again, _please_.”

“Yeah, okay,” he finally says. “I’ll think about it, Clarke.”

Bellamy falls asleep shortly after that but she can’t, lying awake for hours and watching him; wondering what it would mean to lose him.

x

Everything moves so quickly in the following days. Their battle plan is being worked out and preparations are being made to move out. Riders come back with the information that so far only two stations of the Ark have been found undamaged. One in Trikru territory, the other in Azgeda - which almost led to a bloodbath, but riders were able to intervene. And to her surprise the new arrivals haven’t caused any trouble either, cooperating with the twelve clans. Clarke has yet to meet them but she is sure that will happen sooner or later.

Before Clarke even realizes it they are already heading back to their own camp, having to say goodbye to Polis. It’s kind of bittersweet. Not like Clarke isn’t excited to return to the others but she has to admit that being in Polis was easy. They had to sit through a lot of boring meetings and feel the cold stares of the clan leaders on them but they didn't have to fight to survive every day. So yes, it was easy.

The Commander, her advisers and the war chiefs of the other clans take the lead, riding by horse while the others follow by feet. Most of the army will arrive later anyway.

Clarke’s brows are furrowed on her forehead as she thinks about something that happened when they were saddling their horses.

Something strange.

_Lexa had given Bellamy a black and her a white horse, but when Clarke was about to bridle hers the Commander stared at her with a small frown, looking more than a little uncomfortable._

_Clarke couldn’t ignore her gaze and frowned back. “Apologies Commander, but is there something wrong?”_

_“I - “ she started and honestly Clarke had never seen her so unsure. “I realized I may have made a mistake. Did you wish to share your horse with Belomi?”_

_“No,” she said slowly, frown deepening. “I’m fine with my own horse.”_

_“But the same color,” Lexa started again. “Do you wish to get a black horse as well? Or should I give Belomi a white one?”_

_It took everything in her willpower not to outright ask her if she had drank from Monty’s moonshite. But it was Heda who was standing in front of her so she pulled herself together and only said, “That is kind but no, I don’t think we need the same colored horses.”_

_Shortly after Bellamy came up behind her, poking Clarke’s cheek as he asked a few questions about riding. It made her forget about the weird conversation._

But now that the strange, strange incident has resurfaced in her head, Clarke can’t shake it off anymore. Why in the world would the Commander want to give them same colored, or even the same horse? She is aware that some of the traditions on the ground are confusing to outsiders but she did grow up here and she knows her culture. Nowhere did she ever hear about riding the same horses because Bellamy and her are what? Leading the same group of people?

So she decides to be straight forward and ask Heda. Although that’s not as easy as she thought it would be. The Commander is riding with her chin raised, eyes crystal clear and the man next to her - she thinks it’s her personal guard - eyes Clarke warily as she keeps glancing to her, not sure what to say.

It turns out she doesn’t have to because Heda goes first.

“Speak freely, Clarke,” she says, only giving her a brief glance before returning her gaze to the road. “Or my guard Gustus will suspect that you are planning to kill me.” Gustus mutters something at that that she doesn’t catch.

“I, um. I wanted to ask you about earlier, why you thought Bellamy and I wanted to share a horse?” She doesn’t answer immediately, waiting if there is more which there is. “And you gave us one room with one bed as well while the others all had separate chambers. I’m not complaining, Heda, if you think so. I’m simply curious.”

The Commander looks at her then, squinting. “You and him are spoken for by each other, are you not?”

Clarke almost chokes on her own spit. “Spo - spoken for?” she echoes, even though she knows exactly what it means. It means that they are - that there is love between them, a romantic bond and relationship, belonging only to one another, _claimed_ \- which is not true! She gapes at the Commander next to her.

“Are you not?” She then asks, brows furrowed as she regards her.

Clarke stammers, not sure what to say to the fierce leader that mistakenly thought her and Bellamy are spoken for by each other. “No,” she says after a long stretched silence. “We are not.”

“But you care for him.”

“Yes, but… we are partners. Friends.”

Even if, she thinks to herself, that stupid asshole is thinking about voluntary going to the mountain and risking his life. Even if - that if is too fragile.

Later Bellamy’s horse trots up to her and he shoots her a goofy grin. He looks unusual on horseback, but good. “What did you two talk about?” he wants to know, nodding his head to the Commander.

“Oh,” she says with a shrug as a blush creeps up her cheeks. “Nothing. War things.”

x

Returning to the dropship - as her friends like to call it - is not what they expected it. While the Commander is setting up camp a few miles away Clarke goes back with Bellamy, Raven and Monty and it’s chaos as soon as they step in. There is only one guard at the gates and instead of representing strength and security he looks scared and almost breaks out in tears when he spots them. No one is sure whether it’s from relief or the opposite. Inside everyone is scattered around, doing god knows what, but Clarke notices that most of the kids that looked quite happy when they left are looking anxious or frustrated. A few of the tents are broken in, empty bottles and cans are all over the ground.

“What the hell,” Bellamy murmurs next to her as his eyes rove over the camp.

“Bellamy.” She tugs at his sleeve when she spots Octavia arguing with a boy on the ramp of the dropship. Once Bellamy sees her too he is already halfway across the camp, calling her name.

His sister lifts her head, surprised, and her face breaking out in a relieved smile. “Bell,” she yelps, throwing herself around his neck and holding him tight. Clarke watches them for a moment before glancing at Raven and Monty with a frown.

“Well, that’s going to be fun,” Raven sigh.

When she joins the siblings, wanting to be caught up on the situation as well, Octavia’s face twists into a painful grimace. “Lincoln,” she croaks out and Clarke's heart almost drops as she expects her next words.. “He was - he was taken. Someone took him and seven other kids, Bell!”

The girl breaks out in tears slumps into Bellamy’s embrace when he wraps his arms back around her, murmuring words. He shares a what-the-fuck-look with her as she tries to come up with any possible answers to the thousand questions that are swirling around in her head. As much as she understands why Octavia is heartbroken she wishes she would stop crying and tell them what happened. So they can help.

After what feels like an eternity, she pulls back from Bellamy’s arms and wipes at her eyes. “He went out to hunt with Fox and Sterling and - and a couple of others, but never came back. We tried to look for him, track his steps, but it was like he just disappeared. Lincoln was gone.”

Clarke swallows. While she was away in Polis, her friend - best friend got taken and is now missing. “When did that happen?”

“Four days ago,” she says and clenches her hands into fists. “A few days later three other people disappeared too when they were outside the wall. I tried, but…” She shakes her head, glancing from Bellamy to Clarke. “We need to get them!”

“O’,” Bellamy says carefully and touches her arm but his sister stares at him, lowering her eyebrows.

“You are going to go after them, aren’t you?”

Clarke decides to chime in so that the fierce brunette won’t let out all her anger on Bellamy. “Octavia, we are going to war against the Mountain Men and right now we need to focus on that so -”

“He is your friend, Clarke,” Octavia exclaims, like she doesn’t know that or hasn’t thought about it. “You call him your brother and you don’t even want to try to save him?”

“The Commander is relying on us!”

“Fuck the commander, fuck the war. This is much more important than politics!”

Clarke knows it must be frustrating not to do anything. After all, it's Lincoln and like Octavia said he is her best friend and if something happened to him - she would never forgive herself for doing nothing. But right now, she has to use her head and not her heart and her head is telling her that the answer lies in the Mountain. “If he was taken, then by Mountain Man, okay? So focusing on defeating them is our only solution right now.”

Octavia’s nostrils flare as she glares at her, something that reminds her of her brother when he used to yell at her too. “You agree with her?” she asks him.

“Yeah," Bellamy says, mouth twisting into an apologetic line. "It all leads back to Mount Weather.”

Suddenly Octavia snatches her arm away and starts throwing insults at him, accusing him of being a coward and a traitor to his own people. Before anyone can interfere, it turns into a full blown screaming match that is not solely about saving Lincoln anymore. When Clarke tries to cut in both of them snap at her so she decides to stay out of it. She only half listens to the terrible things they throw at each other from the healing station. But her heart twists in her chest at Octavia's words to her brother. She knows how much Bellamy loves his sister, how far he would go to protect and care for her. He does not deserve this treatment.

“Not a good day, huh,” Jasper mutters watching the scene as she checks his wound.

“No,” she huffs and tucks his shirt back with a small smile. “It looks like it’s finally healing, Jasper.”

His eyes focus on her then and he presses out a grin, even though everyone else's mood seems to be terrible. “Thanks to you, doc.”

She bites her lip before saying, “Who else was taken?”

“So many actually,” Jasper says, scratching his chin. “Harper, Miller, Digs, Jonn… oh and the chancellor’s kid Wells. Right before his father came down with the Ark, it’s a shame.”

Oh, that. There are those other people that came down. After asking around she finds out that some parents reunited with their children, although most of them either found their child dead or missing. The people are strict and a bit annoying according to Jasper, but don’t seem to be a threat.

Clarke takes a short break from checking up on people, taking a few gulps of water when Bellamy storms in, vibrating with anger. “That’s it, I’m going,” he barks, grabbing a backpack from the box.

“Going where?” First she is confused but then it dawns on her and she jumps up to slow him down. “Bellamy, look at me! Where are you going?”

He halts in his steps at and glares at her even though she knows that it is not directly aimed at her. “Mount weather. I’m going in.” Bellamy scrubs a hand across his face as she stares at him.

“What? Bellamy, you told me you would reconsider it!”

“I did,” he snaps. “And I’ve come to the decision to go.” She opens her mouth to say something, to knock some sense into his brain or add a couple of insults to the list he has already heard today to make him realize that this impulsive, rash decision he is making will get him killed. But nothing comes out. “I should’ve been here, Clarke." It comes out in a broken, tired whisper and he runs a shaky hand through his hair.

“Then be here _now,_ ” she presses, taking the hand that’s trembling into hers and squeezing.

“I - I have to. I have to find Lincoln and the others. Fox. Miller.”

“We are going to find them together,” she argues. “When the Mountain falls, we’ll find them!”

“No. It's the best possible choice. Roan told me how the Mountain works, I know where to go and what to do and - and I can disable the fog. Raven and Monty will tell me what to do -"

"Anyone else can do that, too!"

"We can't risk anyone's life, though!"

Clarke lets out a small noise in her throat. “You can’t just run because you had a fight with your sister, Bellamy! It doesn't give you the right to think your life is expendable!” She stabs a finger into his chest. “And going on a suicide mission will not make anything better between the two of you. You have to use your head!”

Mentioning his sister was probably not the best idea, she notes later.

“You know what, Clarke? Fuck off.”

“Excuse me?”

He ignores her offended gasp. “You always try to fucking fix people, fix dying Jasper, fix him, fix her and maybe it makes you feel better about yourself but you can’t. fucking. fix. _me_ , Clarke!”

“I’m not trying to fix you, you asshole! I'm trying to not get you killed!”

“I can look after myself, I don't need your help, okay?”

Clarke is shaking with frustration, pleading, "Don't push me away -"

"Then leave me the fuck alone!"

With that he pushes past her and storms out of the ship, leaving her seething with anger and confusion.

x

“Hey, you okay?”

It’s Raven and she is looking at her with this sad look which indicates that Clarke must look exactly how she feels. Because Raven does not play nice with anyone, ever.

She means to nod and say that she is fine which she is because why would she not be? If Bellamy wants to go and sacrifice himself like there aren't people caring about him, then fine. So be it. But then Clarke thinks about him going into the Mountain, alone, trying to protect his people that he loves and feels tears burning behind her lids.

“Hey, it’s ok,” she hears Raven murmur and squeeze her hand.

“I just -” she tries but a wave of anger overcomes her so she slams a fist on the ground, releasing some of it. “I hate this stupid fucking asshole!”

Raven smiles as she cocks her head. “Love ain’t easy, Clarke, but you don’t hate him.”

She tries to shake her head, tries to convincingly say, “I do" but it comes out shaky.

“Sure.”

“I mean, “ she snivels. “I hate that he is so unafraid to put himself in danger and self-sacrifices himself for everyone he meets.” Raven nods. “Can’t he think of himself for once? Think of the people who love him?” Think of her?

“He does,” Raven replies quietly. “That’s why he would run into a burning building for you, why he wants to be the inside man. Because he wants to protect all of us.”

That is the problem, though. “And who protects him?”

“You mostly.” Raven snorts at herself before shooting her a reaffirming smile. “Come on, girl. Don’t let him leave fighting with you.”

Raven is right.

Clarke knows exactly where to find Bellamy. Since he is so keen on getting himself killed, he surely went to tell Lexa. Or, he will tell her. She hopes for the latter. She was right, there is a tent next to the Commander’s one that she immediately recognizes because his shoes are outside. Bellamy always leaves his shoes outside.

Clarke does not think think about what she will say or do. She simply slips inside. Bellamy is all she wants. He spins around when he hears her come in, his jaw flexing. “What?”

His brusque way of saying hello doesn’t bother her, she just crosses her arms and shakes her head. “You. are. so. stupid.” Okay, maybe she should have thought about what to say before going in.

“Clarke -”

“I need you,” she blurts out before he can say anything else and her arms fall to her side, balling into angry fists. It’s easier to be mad at him than… than being honest. His expression shifts from annoyed to - to that. Like he understands what she means, that she needs him, so he swallows, but also like it’s too late. “Are you... going?”

A beat.

“Yeah,” he says and her face crumbles. Bellamy holds out his arms and Clarke runs straight into him, sobbing into his chest. She wants to pound her fists again his chest and scream why he agreed to this suicide mission, but instead she helplessly clings her arms around his neck and soaks in the way he feels, the way he smells, the way he touches and holds her. She soaks Bellamy in.

They lie down on his sleeping mat after some time. Bellamy wraps his arms around her, presses his mouth against the back of her neck and pulls the sheets over them. It feels so peaceful in that moment. Doesn't feel like there is a war outside the tent, like he is going away and she has to stay behind. Clarke wishes it would remain like that, but she knows it can't.

“I'm scared,” he murmurs, his chest rumbling, “that Octavia hates me.”

“No, Bellamy. She doesn’t - she just lost Lincoln.” Clarke sighs. “But we will get him back. We will get all of them back.”

“Okay.”

“And after it’s all over we are going to consume alcohol again because it made me feel light and happy,” she continues.

Bellamy chuckles, it tickles. “Yeah?” She nods, hopeful. “What else?”

“We’re going to continue your training because I can still kick your ass.”

“Obviously,” he says, but she feels him smiling.

“And we are going to do all the things you always dreamed of when you were in space. Together.”

“I like that.”

She finds his hands and interlaces her fingers with him, squeezing. “Live. That’s what we’re going to do.”

His racing heartbeat slows down behind her and maybe he has already fallen asleep but she still tries. “Bellamy?”

“Mhh?” he grumbles, voice muffled against her skin.

“When?”

His silence is almost painful. “Tomorrow,” he says.

Clarke falls asleep, clutching at him and realizes somewhere that it wasn’t the fluffy bed that she liked so much in Polis. It was sleeping next to Bellamy

x

Everything feels wrong the next morning. Getting out of bed and untangling her limbs from Bellamy’s, stuffing a few nuts into her mouth despite her stomach’s violent protests, going into the Commander’s tent and hearing her speech about charging into battle. All of it feels wrong.

Technically, they aren’t going into battle, only Bellamy is. He is the most important player on the battlefield now. If he gets in and disables the fog they are victorious. If he dies… Clarke can’t even think about that.

Raven gives him one last quick description of the thing that makes the fog and shoves a small radio into his hands that she managed to build thanks to the new arrivals. It may even be small enough to go unnoticed, if not then Bellamy will have to find another way to contact them.

Roan repeats what to do after the Mountain Men take him. How to behave, how to get out of the cages they keep the grounders in, when to attack. Even though Bellamy has already gone through it a dozen times, he listens and nods here and there.

Then Lexa steps forward, a can of black paint in her left hand. “Today you go to war for us all, Belomi,” she says and dips her fingers into it. They slide across his face, darkening his eyes and painting two stripes on each of his cheekbone and a vertical stripe above his nose. “Tomorrow you will reemerge a warrior.”

He thanks her with a silent nod and then it’s already time for him to go. Clarke tries to swallow the lump in her throat as he hugs some of the people who came goodbye.

“You are worrying,” Lexa points out as she comes to stand next to her, watching Bellamy.

Clarke clenches her hands, suddenly angry. “It’s not exactly a trip to market.”

“It is a sacrifice and he is honoring us all with it.”

“Yeah,” she breathes and glares at Heda, something she thought she would never do. “Except I don’t want him to be a goddamn hero, I want him to be alive.”

Lexa’s jaw flexes as she eyes her before staring ahead. “Love is weakness. To be a leader is to be alone.”

Weakness. Clarke thinks about it and realizes that is how she has been feeling all this time: weak, helpless. Even back in camp she has never felt this small.

“You’re wrong,” she says, though. “Love is strength.” But she has also never fought for someone so hard in her life and being weak from time to time is worth this strength a thousand times.

She accompanies Bellamy to the end of the hill where their camp is at. It’s a silent walk.

Only when the path comes to an end, when he turns around because it’s time for him to go, does Clarke feel the emotion quell up inside her. The words bubble out of her like out of a goddamn fountain. “Bellamy,” she says, her chest falling and he looks at her - like that again, a goddamn tragedy written in his eyes. “I just - I - “

“It’s okay,” he smiles and strokes his thumb across her cheek. “I know.”

Does he, though? Does he know that he is far more worth than he thinks of himself? That he has a heart made of gold and that the things he did to survive don't define him? That he helped her in ways no one could? The words are right there on her tongue, waiting to be said out loud, but she doesn't. It doesn’t feel right. This is not goodbye, it can't be so she doesn’t. Clarke presses out a smile and squeezes his hand. “Survive, please.”

He nods and then he is slipping out her fingers, turning to leave as his expression goes hard and determined. Almost numb she watches him leave, but something in her bursts. She can't let him leave without doing something first. Clarke starts running and yells his name.

Bellamy spins around with furrowed brows, expecting some kind of danger but instead she crushes her lips down on his, holding on to his jacket. His entire body goes completely still for a second. She fears this is a mistake, ready to pull back when his hands come up, cupping her face and kissing back. He tastes like earth and bravery, like her favorite melody dying on her lips.

Clarke pulls back with closed eyes, panting and this time she lets him go. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tbh I'm struggling with chapter 5/the ending right now so I think you'll have to wait a little longer for the next one. Also, maybe I will split chapter 5 into two parts and there will be a chapter 6 because it might become too long. Waagh, I don't know. 
> 
> As always comments and your thoughts are appreciated, please motivate me to write that damn ending <3 Thank you so much to the people who tell me what lines or scenes they liked and who generally leave a little something, I love and appreciate it so much. It's my fuel, guys, so thank you!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise I did not forget about this baby here. So as an apology, here is the last and final chapter in all its length and glory.
> 
> Warning: some smut at the end, so feel free to skip that if you want.

**_V/V_ **

 

Bellamy was right: war takes time. She remembers him saying that one night, hunched over the map and the plastic figures on it.

It feels like months pass by waiting for him to make contact from the inside, even though it‘s only a matter of days - a week, at most. But every day Clarke wakes up and goes to sleep with the desperate wish that Bellamy will come through today, which is not that efficient considering they are about to go to war. So she tries to direct all of her energy to her friends that are here. Helping Raven and a man called Sinclair to build more radios and the explosives that are supposed to give them entry to Mount Weather, handing Monty utensils when he is fixing things, or cooking the food so that no one stays hungry. She meets other people from the Ark like Jackson, a fellow healer who shows her several useful things and ways to treat people, or Marcus Kane, a man with an unreckoned force to make sure his people survive.

The only one that she does not see as often is Octavia who is generally pissed off about everything she says. Clarke knows she is still hurting about Lincoln, it’s not easy to lose someone to the mountain. But if there is a chance that he is still alive she should be fighting for _that_ \- not glowering and snapping at everyone that dares to approach her. So one day Clarke decides it’s enough and confronts her.

“Follow me.”

Octavia looks up from the log she is sitting on, fingers wrapped around a knife. “Where to?”

“You’ll see.”

“No thank you,” the girl mutters and goes back to sharpening a long stick. Tired of her attitude Clarke grabs her by the arm, pulling her up and after her, which Octavia does not like at all.

“Hey, let me go! I don’t wanna -”

“You want to save, Lincoln, don’t you?” Clarke snaps, whirling around.

“Yes,” Octavia bites out. “Of course I want to but -”

"Then I’ll bring you to someone who will make you a warrior so that you can help me _save_ him and the others when the time comes. So that you can fight alongside your brother who risks his life each day to make you proud.”

She does not object any more after that, following her without another word as Clarke brings her to the fiercest and most ruthless warrior she knows: Indra. Trikru's war chief isn't particularly fond of Clarke, especially not after she abandoned her clan to help outsiders. But she listens to the Commander and since Lexa is working with Clarke she is bound to help her as well.

“She will not go easy on you,” Clarke tells her in front of the tent. “And you will probably want to stop the training at some point but if you manage to do this, then you will come out as a warrior, Octavia.”

Her eyes glisten with something that she could already see the first time she met her, a dauntless sparkle as she nods with too much force and walks in. It can be both gratifying and horrible not to fear anything.

Frankly, Clarke did not even go into details about Indra’s harsh training since part of her thinks that Octavia needs the discipline, someone who will tell her what to do. Because truth be told: she has a major attitude problem. Clarke is aware of her tragic past but she does not know a single person on the ground that does _not_ have that as well and every one else is still somehow pulling their weight and trying their best, whereas she lashes out, at her brother, who loves her more than anything, and every one else too. Training will do her good.

Something happens - an argument between people of the Ark and the hundred - and Finn dies. A couple of others, too. Clarke holds Raven in her arms after she finds out and tries to be as comforting as Bellamy was to her when she saw the ship. She doesn’t think she is as good at doing that as Bellamy, though. It’s hard and painful and it’s ugly, but Raven only lets herself so much time before throwing herself into more work. Even though Finn and her broke up weeks ago because Finn had cheated on her with another girl, Clarke knows that he was Raven’s family, her only family. She knows that he was the one who cared for her on the Ark when her own mother was more interested in alcohol than her own child. And now he is dead.

After a particular delicate encounter with Raven who snapped and yelled at her to be faster, Clarke lets herself fall on a log and bury her face in her hands. Everything seems to be falling apart these days.

“How’s she doing?” Monty asks, sitting down next to her.

“How do you think? She’s devastated but determined to work it all out.” Clarke sighs and Monty’s gaze lands on her, cautious.

“How are _you?_ ”

Clarke doesn’t know what makes her say it, but she finds herself admitting, “I miss Bellamy.” For a moment he does not reply, there’s just this small shadow of a sad smile ghosting over his face as he nods.

“Yeah. I miss Nate, too.”

And then Bellamy comes through. It has been a little over a week and Clarke is not there when he does, but she enters the ship to find Raven shooting her a breathless smile and she knows. Raven recounts what he told her: he managed to get past the reapers, out of the cages and the harvesting and found their friends alive and healthy - most of them. A woman and a girl are helping him so he manages to sneak around the bunker. With the help of Raven and Monty he turned off the acid fog an hour ago and then the connection got cut for some reason.

Clarke tries not get too hung up on the last bit, but it’s hard.

Lexa holds a zealous speech about going into battle. Afterwards Clarke adds that the main focus is on _rescuing_ their people, not killing every single person inside.

Despite all of that it turns into a bloodbath once the gates of the Mountain are blown to pieces. Their enemy does not give up without a fight, striking back with guns, tasers and grenades. Lives are lost, many many lives from both sides. In the end Clarke finds herself aiming a gun at the old man that introduces himself at the leader of his people, his eyes showing not true evil, rarely the will to ensure his people's survival at all costs. But if that will includes killing her people, it's evil enough. So so she kills him. She has to kill other people as well during their fight to the bottom of the bunker. Somewhere along the way she looks down on her hands and only sees copper red claws staring back at her. For a moment she goes still, scared of the person she has become.

When the initial shock wears off Lexa talks to the people that were left alive in the dining room, splutters of blood across her chin that is raised high into the air. “To the people that are now standing here, living, I am giving you a choice. Accept our terms of the treaty we offer you and we will grant you to live on in the Mountain in spite of the tragedies that have occurred here. If you refuse, you will be sentenced to death. Choose wisely.”

It’s over, but the weight on her shoulders is still there and Clarke's eyes helplessly dart around the room. Where is Bellamy? The battle lasted almost an entire day and she has not seen him anywhere. She saw Lincoln and Octavia fighting side by side at some point, saw the kids that got taken from the ship and how each of them fought for their freedom, but she didn't see _him_. All the worries and fears that she managed to repress since he has been gone, come to the surface. She staggers to the hallway, blood and dirt smeared all over the floor, and leans her forehead against a wall, squeezing her eyes shut.

There are noises from the dining hall, people murmuring and whispering. She swallows.

“Clarke.” It’s Miller, not Bellamy so she doesn’t bother to look at him. “You doing okay?”

“Have you seen Bellamy?”

There is a heavy silence. “No, last time I saw him was yesterday night. Do you think - you think he’s -”

“Thank you,” she croaks out and finally turns around, shoulders slumped as her gaze numbly roams around her. She has to find him, even if he’s - … she has to find him, and know.

Miller accompanies her even though he doesn’t say anything. Talking is not on her mind right now anyway, and a second pair of eyes will be good. There are several floors in the Mountain, all of them are empty when they search them. No trace of Bellamy.

Her heart sinks when they get to the last floor. If they don’t find him here - then he is not in the mountain and she does not know where else he could be. Clarke searches every single room, even looks under bags and in holes and opens every door to every room. He is just not here.

Bellamy is gone.

A sob breaks out of her throat after she searches the last room. She buries her face in her hands and sinks to the floor, her body shaking with the force of her tears that run across her cheeks. Miller says something, tries to touch her but all she feels is a hole in her heart.

“Clarke, there is someone!”

It finally snaps her back and she looks up, her heart freezing in her chest. A woman comes around the corner, face twisted in worry with wrinkles and creases around her eyes, next to her is a girl with black hair, wearing a radiation suit.

Clarke stares numbly as she realizes Bellamy isn’t returning to her.

Someone else comes around the corner, trailing quickly after the two women with his head down. Clarke lets out a sob when she sees that it’s him. It’s him. The black tousled hair sticking up in all directions, the tired expression on his face and - and it’s him, Bellamy. He looks up when he hears her, freezing.

“Clarke?”

She doesn’t know who moves first, but she jumps up from the floor and runs to him as he strides towards her with an intense gaze but they meet in the middle. Clarke throws herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck as tight as she can and she holds him, and holds him and holds him. Bellamy’s body relaxes against her, his arms clutching and she feels him sigh into the spot between her shoulders. “You came through.”

After what feels like an eternity of hugging him, she pulls slightly away and touches his face. Clarke lets out a teary eyed laugh as she looks at him.

“Why are you crying?” he asks, eyes crinkling around the corners when he wipes her tears away.

“I thought you were dead,” she whispers and lets her head fall against his chest. “I thought you were dead you stupid fucking asshole.” The sound of his laughter that she gets out of him is the best thing she has ever heard.

Someone clears their throat behind them and Bellamy reluctantly pulls back, sighing. Clarke turns around, her hand still clutching his arm to look at the person that dares to interrupt them.

It’s the woman, she’s looking slightly uncomfortable but there is this awe in her eyes that Clarke finds irritating. “I’m sorry,” she stutters out and takes a step closer. “But you are - Clarke?”

She nods, hesitant, brows furrowing on her head as she quickly looks to Bellamy who nods, encouraging her.

“Clarke,” the woman breathes and her smile turns into a watery laugh, the same that Clarke made seconds ago. A feeling crawls up in her stomach, tells her that she knows what this is but she doesn’t. Not really.

“It’s me, Clarke. Abby -”

_They killed your father because he killed one of our own, jus drein jus daun. Your father. Him._

Anya never said that they killed them, only one. Singular.

“Mom?” Clarke croaks out.

x

  
“Skaikru has proven themselves worthy in battle as in peace and today we have gathered to honor the fighting spirit of Skaikru and to celebrate our victory over the Mountain. Step forward, Belomi and receive our present.”

He does, hands gliding around the seal that Lexa gives him.

“Now that the war is over Skaikru has the choice to become the thirteenth clan.” Her gaze falls on Bellamy. “Is that your wish, Belomi kom Skaikru?”

Clarke holds her breath.

“No,” he says easy.

The Commander doesn't show any reaction before looking at the people gathered in the throne room. Of course she doesn’t, Lexa already knew the answer. „We will not be celebrating Skaikru as the thirteenth clan today but we will honor them as trusted allies. Skaikru will get their own land and will form their own way of living.“

A few people, mostly leaders of the other clans, start murmuring in hushed voices, puzzled at this sudden turn of events. Everyone expected Skaikru to be embedded into Lexa’s alliance, especially after the war and Mount Weather. Clarke thought they would, but they didn’t. The Skypeople that have come to Polis to celebrate are not surprised, they have already known it was coming.

Lexa speaks to her people about growing and prospering and stuff like that but Clarke's eyes wander to Bellamy, the way he tries to not roll his eyes at Lexa’s words even though she knows he thinks that these ceremonies and public speeches are stupid. (He likes to hold speeches on his own though.) She thinks about the way his jaw twitched when they they were fighting couple of days ago, crossing his arms instead of snapping at her. He has grown.

She sighs a little and tears her gaze away, trying to focus on the Commander. A warm weighs settles on her shoulder and she glances to her side where Abby - no, her mother is smiling at her. Her _mother._

It was, like most of the things on the ground, a miracle to discover that her own mother was alive and well, having been hidden away in the Mountain all these years. It turns out the people that took Clarke away and killed her father left her mother with a bunch of reapers who took her to Mount Weather. When the people there discovered that she was not only a Skyperson but also someone with medical knowledge they made sure that Abby would never see the ground again. They told her that Trikru killed Clarke, that they were savages and monsters, and after years her mother stopped hoping and started believing their lies.

It’s not perfect, there are some things she doesn’t quite understand yet, circumstances where she would have acted differently but Clarke is grateful that she now has the chance to discuss that. She has a mother, her own little family.

Polis turns into a city of festivities, sloppy laughter and a lot of wine for one night. Everyone, including the Commander herself, gets a little drunk. Clarke doesn’t hold back either, gulping down glass after glass until suddenly a hand lands on her own, and she feels a familiar presence behind her.

“How about you slow down a little, princess?”

She closes her eyes, breathing a little hard. Usually it would not stop but encourage her to do the exact opposite; there is a reason people describe her as bossy. But it’s Bellamy and lately Bellamy is making her do things she thought she would never do. “Or what?” she challenges and turns her head so that she is only a few inches away from him. Clarke wants to feel at least a little in control.

“Come,” he says, not reacting to her question, and straightens before offering her hand. “Dance with me.” Clarke gulps but takes it, following him to the middle of the dance floor which isn’t even a dance floor because there is nobody dancing. Still, she puts her arms around his neck when his come up around her waist.

“This is stupid,” she whispers, noticing some of the people at the table staring but Bellamy’s silence forces her gaze back to him. He looks so… put together, it’s kind of foreign. “Why are you doing this? You don’t even like dancing.” Bellamy’s brow shoots up at that.

“You don’t know that. Maybe I am natural dancing spirit?”

She snorts. “Maybe a soft person with a gusto for mythology but not a dancer.” When he keeps grinning at her like that, she frowns. “Are you?”

“No,” he chuckles, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment. “A gusto for history, though? Really?” Now it’s her turn to grin.

“A little, yeah.”

“Rude.”

Patting his cheek, she shoots him a beaming smile but Bellamy catches her hand and her heart stutters. “Clarke, I -” he starts and she waits nervously for him to finish the sentence. “I want to thank you. For believing in me when nobody did.”

Clarke tries to ignore the small feeling of disappointment in her chest and tells herself that it’s better this way, better for the future that they won’t share together. After all, she is staying here with her mother and he is leaving with his people. 

“Bellamy, I will always believe in you,” she tells him and squeezes his hand, “But the others believe in you, too because you’re a great leader and an even better person.”

“Then why do you keep calling me ‘a stupid fucking asshole’ all the time?”

She lets her head fall against his chest, laughing. “Shut up. I only say that when you’re trying to get yourself killed.”

They keep swaying around the dance floor like two people who can’t dance. At least a few other pairs have joined them. Clarke tries to savor the moment, leaning against him and being there in the present because the future will be different.

“Because of you,” he says out of nowhere and she looks up, frowning. Bellamy clears his throat, clarifies, “You asked me why I’m dancing with you and - it’s because of you. I wanted to dance with you at least once.”

Most of the times she manages not to think about the kiss and about the way his lips felt against hers or the way he held on to Clarke. Most of the times, but not now. She wonders what it would change or if it would change anything at all. So she only holds on tighter and dances with him a little bit longer.

A few hours later the bittersweet ache in her is replaced by a buzzed intoxicated state of mind and she laughs with her friends as they play drinking games and are loud and noisy like actual teenagers should be.

“Okay, okay,” Bellamy says, his eyes cheerfully wandering across the group of people that have gathered at the table. “Never have I ever, um, thrown a person of thirty story tower.” A few of her friends shut up for a moment, blinking as they try to figure out who it is directed at. Clarke knows because she was there and she lets out a giggle.

Lexa, who actually participates in this game, snorts across from him. “I believe this game is meant to be funny not scare people away from me, Belomi.” But she takes the shot. Raven laughs loudly and then everyone else does, too, because it’s not like pushing people of towers is actually scary.

Next one is Murphy. “Never have I ever… fucked a guy.”

“Boringggg,” Raven hollers and Harper and a few others boo him as well, throwing nuts at him which he catches. Most of the table takes a shot with a few exceptions and since she is one of those the attentions lands on her.

“What?” Raven exclaims loudly. “You’ve never had - ?”

Clarke blinks at her, a blush creeping up her cheek. “Not really.”

“Clarke, you’re like the hottest grounder around here,” Jasper slurs before holding out an apologizing hand to Lexa, hiccuping. “You too, of course, Mrs. Commander.” Lexa only raises her brows at him.

A little bit embarrassed by her seeming innocence, she hides her face in her hands, and to her disappointment her friends start pitying her then.

“Aww, come on, Clarke,” It’s harper and she pats her shoulder. “You’ll find someone!”

“Wait,” she hears Murphy say, not bothering to look up again because whatever he will say it will be shit. “I thought Bellamy and -” Then there’s the sound of someone smacking him and he louts a small ‘Ouch!” before Raven mutters he should shut up.

That doesn’t make anything better but she still looks up eventually, noticing Bellamy’s eyes flickering over her briefly. “It just never came to it, okay? Would you all shut up now about this?”

Thankfully they seem to agree with that, but Raven turns her head to Lexa, raising her brow. “What’s your excuse, Commander?” Aside from Clarke Lexa didn’t drink as well.

“He asked about men,” she replies with a shrug. “Not women.”

Raven huffs. “Fair enough.”

The next few rounds are less controversial, confessions about drugs, parents and other funny things like “getting imprisoned for growing a weed plantation in space” but then it’s Lexa’s turn and by the way the corners of her mouth curls slightly upwards as her eyes narrow on Bellamy, she knows that it will be directed at him. However she does not expect what she says.

“Never have I ever loved someone and not told them the truth.”

Jasper who has had a little bit more than any of them by now, blinks sloppily at her. “Wait, told them or not told them?”

“Not told them,” Monty explains, already pushing the glass towards him but taking a shot as well. Surprisingly most people do: Harper, Miller, Jasper who mumbles, “Give me ten drinks then ‘cause I never tell them!”

Clarke looks at her drink and wonders if it counts when you don’t tell them because that’s for the best but she figures a game is a game and takes the shot, hissing a little because of its burning sting. Instinctly her eyes flicker to Bellamy who is holding the drink to his lips before throwing it back. She looks away but notices how pleased the Commander looks when he does. Somehow Bellamy and her have become something like friends along the way and it’s pretty strange if you ask her.

After another three rounds, Titus comes up behind Lexa and leans down to scold her, his hand wrapping around the glass she is holding. “Heda, don’t you think that you have had enough of this poison for tonight?”

She snatches it out of his grip and shoots him a furious glare. “It’s enough when I say it is!” When he does not back back down, she actually gives him her glass back and cocks her head in challenge. “Drink, Titus You could use it.”

“Heda!” His offended gasp is enough to make everyone break out in a fit of giggles and laughter around the table, nothing compared to the silence that settled upon them when her adviser first appeared.

“Drink or not,” Lexa mutters and turns back around, shooing him away with her hand. “But bak of, Tituts.”

“God how do you stand him?” Monty asks, grinning and Lexa shrugs, but there is a knowing smile on her lips.

“Titus is quite protective at times, but he means well.”

Clarke lies away that night, clutching at the furs and staring at the ceiling. It might as well have been the last time she spent time with her friends. Of course it will take a little while before they head out to the new land but she can’t help but feel the clock ticking, counting her days with them. With him.

After everything they have been through it will be distance that separates them.

It wasn’t an easy choice. Clarke hadn’t even known she would have to make a choice at all, the news that Skaikru would not be joining Lexa’s alliance was as surprising to her as for the people in the throne room today. She figured that after how much they fought to stay, they would actually plan to stay when the war is over. Then Bellamy told her one day and that was it.

 _“_ You don’t have to go,” she said, close on desperate. “You helped them defeat the Mountain! Skaikru can join the coalition, Bellamy.”

“No, it can’t,” was his answer though. She knew then and she knows now that Bellamy was right, becoming the thirteenth clan would have never worked out like some of them hoped to. Even though they fought the bad guys, proved that they can be valuable, tried to bring peace… there are still civil commotions among the other tribes. Peace cannot be accomplished when every ever so little conflict between the two groups threatens to turn into a bloody war. There are just too much differences they can’t put aside and too much to lose in the process.

Leaving is the only smart choice.

The problem of course was whether she would go with them or not. As soon as she knew she went to Bellamy. Hands too sweaty and her throat a little to dry to appear like she was actually content with what she was about to tell him. But she didn’t even have to, Bellamy knew immediately when he saw her face. And his own expression faltered for a split second, the mask he always wears so carefully crumpling.

“My mother,” she tried to explain, shrugging incoherently but her voice broke. “I just found her. Years, years I thought she was dead, Bellamy and now she is here and alive and I -” her chest contracted painfully as she swallowed. “- I have to stay with her.”

His mask returned and he nodded. They didn’t really fight about it, not in the sense of screaming at each other and saying what’s on their minds, but both of them weren’t content with the way it was - or would be. Clarke liked to brood over Skaikru joining the coalition, bent on finding a possibly solution that perhaps could make everyone happy.

Now she knows that’s not possible and has accepted it. And Bellamy probably had his own disagreements with why she had to stay.

Her mother, Abby Griffin, had lived thirteen years with the people of Mount Weather, naturally she made friends in that time, even built herself a small family. Maya Vie had become something like a surrogate daughter to her and her father a close friends. Clarke was a little jealous at first. Her own mother adopting another child instead of looking for her real one. It sounded bad, fishy. Bellamy told her that, uttered his concerns but in the end, it was what it was. Clarke had grown up with the people that killed her own father and she had considered them family, too, for a long time. That’s what happens over the years: you adopt to your surroundings, and eventually the things, that once defined you, fade as well.

Abby can’t leave Maya and her father behind who are both not able to step outside without burning to a crisp in a matter of minutes, and Clarke can’t bring herself to abandon her mother after just finding her. So she stays, and the same time she loses the friends she made in the last months, her people.

Of course it couldn’t be easy after the war, nothing ever is on the ground.

Suddenly Clarke hears a knock on the door and jerks up, wondering who the hell would bother her in the middle of the night. She still says, “come in”.

It’s Bellamy.

“Hey,” he says, slipping in and closing the door behind him. She gapes at him, surprised, for a little to long before she pulls herself together and tries to look normal.

“Hey. What’s going on?”

“I couldn’t sleep.” Clarke pats at a spot on her bed when he remains hovering at the door a little awkwardly and he seems to relax a little as he sits down next to her, the bed dipping under his weight. “I keep thinking about how we’re going to leave in a few weeks and you’re going to stay here.”

She gulps, training her gaze on her hands. “I hate that it has to be this way.” It’s quiet, and the first time she admits that it’s something she doesn’t want, but feels like she has to do.

“What if I stay?” he suddenly says.

Clarke tenses. He can’t be serious. “Bellamy,” she says, warning and lifts her tired gaze to meet his. “Don’t say that.”

“I mean I could,” he continues like it’s perfectly normal. “Nothing is holding me back -”

“Except your people! And your sister and your - your friends, Bellamy. You can’t leave all of that just for me.” Her voice grows more agitated, trying to convey how stupid that is.

Bellamy’s shoulders sag in disappointment. She doesn’t know what he expected her to say since the idea was doomed from the beginning. His people need him, now more than ever in this time of change. “Yeah, instead I just have to leave you behind,” he grumbles, a hand raking through his tousled hair. “Can you just -” he waves a hand over them awkwardly, and she tries to stifle her giggle as he searches for words to say cuddle without actually saying it. “I want - or no, I need to have that before… before everything.”

Clarke holds out the furs until he slips under them and she turns to her side so she can face him. He is clearly embarrassed about asking her, usually it is always Clarke who initiates the contact and mostly they do it automatically afterwards but he is asking her and she needs it just as much as he does. So she wraps her arms around his neck and cuddles closer to his chest, listening to his heartbeat.

She remembers the first couple of days after Mount weather. Everything was grey, the clouds hanging in the sky and the sterile room where she forced him to rest, so dull and empty. She had expected the opposite after victory, perhaps a taste of freedom and joy, but instead all of it was so… empty. Bellamy was sleeping in a bed, recovering from the horrible things the Mountain Men did to him when he first got there. Despite his clear protest, she forced him to rest for several days. She remembers glancing at her hands and blood flashing in front of her eyes, like she was back in the dining hall with six lives lost through her hand and a cloud of anxiety looming over her because of Bellamy. In his room they were white, and pale, but sometimes she saw droplets of blood coming through.

Clarke also spent a lot of Time in Raven’s room who was recovering from her leg surgery as well. It took her more time than Bellamy, after all she suffered a major muscle damage in her leg but she had the equal refusal to spend her days in bed as Bellamy.

Looking back at it, she doesn‘t know what she did besides sitting at the bed of her friends and letting time wash over her. Clarke doesn‘t even remember the first few conversations with her mother properly. They were strange and awkward, that was it. And after Bellamy had recovered he and the rest of the people made the decision to leave. And now she is here, face curled into his chest.

Her mother catches them both coming out of her room in the morning and Clarke notices her mouth press into a thin line. Even though they have been back in each other’s life for two weeks she already learned that Abby likes to have her own opinions and when she does, she also likes to express them. They are walking to the dining room and Clarke is waiting for her to say something. It’s not like her and Bellamy did something in her bed, it was all very platonic like always when they hold each other at night. And even if, there would be nothing wrong about it. She is almost eighteen and an adult.

“You two seem close,” is what her mother eventually says, glancing at Clarke from the corner of her eyes.

Clarke nods and makes a quiet sound of agreement, so that it’s not too close in Bellamy’s hearing distance because he is walking a few feet ahead of her, chatting with Raven. “Fighting a war together brings people closer,” she adds.

“Bellamy is a good man.” It surprises her to hear these words and she looks at her, her mom’s face is mostly stoic but there is an underlying softness there. “I saw how much he cares for his people in Mount Weather. He has a good heart.” A beat. “He cares about you, too.”

It shouldn’t be, but it makes her even sadder to know that in an universe where he would stay or she would go with him her mother would have liked him. Clarke swallows down the stupid thought and raises her chin. She says, “He will be a good leader in the new land.”

The new land is somewhere over the mountains, through Trishanakru and the Blue Cliff Clan . Clarke curiously looks at the spread out map; her heart sinking when she sees the great distance between her village and the new land. It must be a month at least a month from here, she dully notes.

Lexa gives Skaikru twenty horses and a couple more cows, both as a thank you for their cooperation and a present for their new life. It’s rather amusing to watch Bellamy worrying over keeping the animals safe on the trip.

Before she even realizes it it’s time to say goodbye. Not everyone is leaving, a few people who feel alright among the grounders are allowed to stay and make a life for themselves there. Some move into the Mountain and others ask for permission to live in villages or cities like Polis. But Clarke’s friends are leaving and with every hug, every last words she exchanges with them her heart sinks more and more and the realization that she does not want this keeps resurfacing.

Clarke is not crying when Raven pulls her into a hug and they just hold each other for a while. “Keep saving all their asses,” Raven murmurs into her hair before pulling back and flashing a smile. In the last weeks she not only lost the only family she had, but also a part of her leg and yet here she is, still smiling and holding it together. Clarke admires her.

“I will,” she nods with a gulp and squeezes her shoulder. “If I ever live to see crazy technology rising, I know it will be you, Raven. You’re a genius, stay that way.”

“Will do, boss.” And then Raven hugs her again because neither of them knows when or if they will see each other next time.

The next person is Lincoln and Clarke feels how harder it gets not to cry as he gently wraps her up in a hug and rubs her back soothingly. He was her rock in the last thirteen years, a brother and her confidant. It’s nearly impossible to imagine that they have to part ways now since Clarke always thought they would remain a duo. But he has Octavia and he is building his own little family outside of Trikru, and clearly he sees more hope in the new land than here. “I’m going to miss you so much,” she whispers.

“I will too.” He pulls back, fixing her with a somber look that she rarely sees on his face. “I will ask you this once. Are you sure?”

She meets his gaze, glass but doesn't say anything. Is she sure? No. Is it still the right choice? Maybe. Clarke thinks so. “It’s my mother,” she forces out and wipes at her eyes because she managed that long not to cry and she will not give in now. “I’ll be okay here, Lincoln. I will become a healer, and, um, grow my own garden or something romantic like that.” A shaky laughs comes out of her and even though he still looks worried, he smiles. “And you will have ten babies with Octavia,” she continues, ignoring the way her voice breaks every two syllables. “Beautiful, attractive babies and I will come visit you someday. Right?”

“Right,” he says and his hand squeezes her shoulder. “Be safe, Clarke. Don’t go looking for trouble as soon as we’re gone, alright?”

“Never.” She laughs watery, a tear slipping away and her voice trembles when says, ”May we meet again, Lincoln.”

“We will. Ai hod yu in. Leidon.” _I love you. Goodbye._

“Ai hod yu in seintaim,” she manages and he leaves to get to his horse after shooting her one last smile. Stay strong, her inner voice echoes but she is holding on to strings now and it won’t get any better because Bellamy comes to say goodbye. And it’s Bellamy, fuck - she can’t hold back the tears anymore longer.

He says, “I guess this is goodbye then.”

She breaks out in a mix of laughter and messy tears when he comes to stand in front of her, sniffing loudly before trying to shoot him a grin. (It doesn’t look like a grin.) “You should’ve been - been the first,” Clarke says and he takes her hands. “Maybe it would’ve been less... hard.”

“I doubt the chronological order would have made it any easier,” Bellamy notes woefully.

“You’re still a smartass.”

“And you’re still bossy,”

In the weirdness of the moment both of them laugh about it, but there are tears burning at her eyelids and she just holds on to the small moment of happiness. “I will see you again,” she informs him, voice determined albeit high-strung. “I will become the ambassador and visit you every few months. Yeah. It will be great.”

“Sounds good.” There is this look on his face again and she can’t help but fall into his chest one last time, melt into him as he wraps his arms around her. “They always will be your people, too,” he murmurs into her hair, his hands firmly gripping her skin. “And you will be welcomed there whenever you want to, we’ll wait for you.”

She is so grateful that he never, not once, forced her to choose between him and her mother. He would never do that, his heart is too good for that and that’s what she loves about him so much. What she will miss so much.

After pulling away slightly, she brushes her thumb across his cheek just like she did when she saw him again in the Mountain. “Thank you,” she whispers. “For everything.” For a second his lip trembles and the mask falls as he pointedly looks down before wiping at his eyes.

“You got it backwards, princess.”

“Bellamy,” she says and suddenly they are in each other’s arm again like a force of nature intertwining around one another before Clarke sucks in a breath and shakily touches the back of his head. “Now go. Go lead your people.”

He nods roughly, before breaking apart and swiftly turning around. Clarke watches him join the long line of people that starts their walk to a new land and a new life and weeps freely, not holding back anymore. When the last of the people are mere dots in the distance Clarke’s mother approaches and pulls her into a hug.

She doesn’t want to ever feel this weak again.

At first she doesn’t let it affect her. Abby wants to go back to the Mountain, check on Maya and Clarke doesn’t know what to do with herself so she goes with her. They bid goodbye to the Commander and then leave on horseback.

Their conversation topics range from discussing the next few days to filling in blanks from the last thirteen years. It’s strange to talk about her childhood in the village with her mother, tell her about how lost she felt at first and that everybody treated her like she was incapable of doing anything, about the slightly older boy who quietly waved her over one night and shared his meals with her, or about the incredibly difficult training sessions with Indra. She sees her nearly tear up at some point and swallows thickly, not sure how to react. These memories aren’t bad memories, they are just the memories. The loss of her parents only started to weigh down on her months ago when she found out about the truth. And now that her mother is in fact not dead, but very much alive, she doesn’t even have half of that.

She asks her mother why they came down and Abby tells her the same thing the others did: the Ark was dying.

“But they managed to survive for another decade? So why did you leave so soon?”

“We were aware that this problem would not have immediate effects,” her mother says, staring ahead. “But when we talked to the Chancellor he told us we would come up with something in time. He didn’t want anyone to know and asked us to stay quiet. Jake and I, we both know that life on the Ark would become severely restricted as the resources grew tighter over the years. That was no life for a child. There was evidence that life on the ground was supportable but he didn’t want to hear a word about it, so -” she shrugs. “- we took matters into our own hands and came here, with you.”

She tries to imagine what her parents must have been like then, what kind of choice they had to make. “You didn’t tell anyone about the oxygen problem?”

Abby averts her gaze like she is ashamed of it but nods. “You must understand, there was not much time. And the most important thing for us were _you,_ and to make sure you are safe.”

 _That turned out well when she was taken by literal strangers and never saw them again_. She holds her tongue though, doesn’t want to make her feel bad. “I would have informed the people.”

When they arrive at the Mountain Clarke refuses to go in and instead decides to visit the dropship’s site despite her mother’s protest.

Clarke looks around the camp. It’s not as empty as she imagined it to be. There are dirty bottles that are half full and a few tents that were too damaged to take along. Pieces of clothing. Empty fireplaces. There are traces of the people that came from the sky, fought their right to live and slayed the monsters in the mountain. She is grateful that there are marks they left, meaning their existence will not vanish even if they will live thousands of forests and rivers away.

Tired and beaten down, she rolls out her sleeping mat and lies down. It starts sinking in.

Her mother comes and goes in the following days, always bringing her something to eat and never not asking her to go with her.

“These people have bled out my friends and turned them into unrecognizable monsters for years. I’m not going to live with them,” is all she says in return and it’s enough. Her mother may not like it, but she cannot change her opinion.

Clarke wishes she could tell Bellamy about it, or Lincoln, or Raven. They would nod as she explained her reasons and then offer some wistful advice. Instead all she has got these days is her own inner voice and that one makes her want to scream at times.

After four days at the ship site, she decides to visit her old village and perhaps talk to Anya. She lifted Lincoln's and her banishment after the Mountain, but back then Clarke was under the impression she would stay with the people she made along the way. Little did she know.

Anya is in the stable, cleaning her horse Xena when she comes looking for her. Her face is clear off any war paint, blood or smudged dirt and it makes her look younger, so young Clarke feels like she is an equal. But she is still older, and was her mentor once _and_  head of Trikru.

“Clarke,” she says as a greeting, voice not particularly excited. “I am surprised to see you here.”

“I don't have much to do these days,” she says with a small shrug.

Her horse kicks impatiently and Anya turns around to give it a carot. “Come, help me with them.” Together they comb down the couple of horses, feed them and clean the reins and the saddles. Even as the head Anya never lets anyone else handle the every day work.

“Now that the war is over, you are lost,” Anya states once they are finished, whereat Clarke clenches her jaw. As much as she likes to do it with others, she doesn’t want to the one being read.

“It’s not because of the war.”

“Ah. I see.” Clarke frowns. “It’s the boy.”

She starts to shake her head, to protest when she sees the expression on Anya’s face and points it useless. Whatever.

“You and Lincoln both fell for the Blake sibling. How is that possible? What makes them so special?”

“Clearly I didn’t,” Clarke huffs, trying not to pout. “Seeing as I am _here_ and Lincoln is with _them_ right now.”

“But your heart is.”

Clarke snorts, can’t help it. “Cheesy.”

“I’m not the one in love with the leader who is heading into another land right now.”

Yes, okay. The point goes to Anya.

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” she says with a sigh, staring off into the distance. He is gone. And it sinks further in her stomach.

“Love undoes even the mightiest of creatures,” Anya says, voice hiding an underlying truth in it. Maybe she talks from experience, or maybe it’s just a saying, but Clarke still gulps. She is not a mighty creature, so what will it do to her?

“Our people like to say that it’s a weakness, but in the right hands love can be stronger than any sword or power one might possess. Sometimes it's love that conquers all.”

Clarke is silent for a moment, then glances at her cautiously. “Do you really believe that?”

Anya holds her gaze. “Does it matter?”

That night it finally consumes her and she realizes there is a hole in her body where her heart used to be and it’s sucking everything in, good and bad. Clarke falls asleep clutching her chest and stubbornly refuses to cry.

“Clarke, honey. Wake up.”

She jolts awake and stares into her mother’s eyes, looking down at her in fear. “Hey.” Wiping sweat from her forehead, she sits up and stretches.

“We should talk, baby.” She is still not used to being called that.

“About what?”

“About you,” Abby says, kneeling down in front of her and putting her hand on her knee. “I’ve watched you tear yourself apart for a week now. I don’t think I can do that any longer.”

Frowning, she shakes her head. “What are you - _no_ , _I’m fine_.”

“You’re not. You refuse to go to Mount Weather with me, you barely eat the food I bring you, and Clarke honey, you are heartbroken.”

“So?” she says, clearly not getting the point here.

“Is this not concerning to you?”

“Maybe it’s inconvenient, but that’s why I am working on it. It will pass, eventually, mom.”

“I doubt it will,” Abby whispers and presses out a small smile. “I don’t want you to choose between me and being happy. I want you to live your life, love, start your family, but I don’t think you want to do that here.”

“Mom,” Clarke gulps, her hands balling into fists. “I stayed here for you! I am here because you are my family. _I found you again_.”

A tear spills on the floor, and her mother reaches out. “Family is not supposed to hurt you.” Suddenly she is pulling her into a hug, cradling her like she is the small four year old girl years ago and Clarke feels like she is back in time. “I understand whatever decision you have to make, my little girl,” she whispers into her neck.

Clarke lets out a nervous huff of breath. “I don’t understand. What are you trying to say?”

At last her mother pulls back, a soft touch on her cheek as she strokes it. “Go to the new land. Follow your friends. Be happy.”

“No,” she protests, shaking her head. “I can’t - can’t do that!”

“Yes, you can. I will never forgive myself for staying in Mount Weather while you were out here all alone,” Abby admits, voice strangled. “But I can make sure that you are happy and loved which you will only be when you go with them.”

“But -” she releases a shaky breath, brows deeply furrowed on her head. “What about you?”

“I love you, Clarke. I will stay here for now. “ With her _other_ family. “But I assure you, honey. I will come visit you as soon as I can.”

A picture starts forming in her head: Bellamy and Clarke leading their people to the new land, building a life there and finally inhaling after years of holding her breath. It’s not entirely clear, some details blurry and fuzzy, but her heart starts racing and there is this fire flaring in her blood.

She still wants to refuse, find a reason to mess it up, but mostly she feels guilty for her mother.

Her mom sees it, and squeezes her hand. “Go, Clarke, don’t worry about leaving me. I’m always with you.”

“Okay,” Clarke breathes and it's like relief floods her system. Her mother hugs her again, harder and longer because this is a goodbye hug whether they like to admit it or not.

“Please stay safe, don’t work too hard and let others take care of you for exchange,” her mother tells her in a hurry. “When it’s about survival make sure you don’t lose your humanity, okay?” She nods. “Find happiness. Don’t waste time with Bellamy, you never know what will happen. And most importantly,” she fixes her with a strong look that is also filled with motherly love. “Always remember that I love you.”

Clarke laughs a little sadly. “I thought you would come visit.”

“I will,” she says. “But this is the ground and I need you to know that.” They stand up and regard each other. Abby finally says, “Now go. Go find your friends.”

So Clarke goes. She forces herself not to look back as she saddles her horse in record time, jumps up and rides away. There is one thing that is important now and that is to find Bellamy Blake and never leave his side again (as long as he doesn't want her to). Since they are a week ahead of her, it will take her a couple of days to catch up but they are much slower than her so she figures it won’t be too long.

Clarke rides south the entire day, through the glowing forest of Trishanakru. At night, when her horse is exhausted, she makes a stop at a River and rests for a couple of hours before continuing her journey. She only eats a handful of nuts since this trip was a total surprise, and mostly focuses on drinking enough water in the summer heat. The second and third day don't go very easy on her and she has to take more breaks than she likes. But the fire is burning and she has a aim in front of her. Clarke will find him.

It’s her fourth day when she spots people in the distance, her heart suddenly feeling like it’s about to jump out of her chest. She clicks her tongue and her horse gallops ahead. The people turn their heads when they hear her.

“Are you Skaikru?” she asks. Their clothes look fairly modern, but you never know around here.

“Depends. Will you try to kill us if we say yes?” A girl challenges, a glint of the same fire in her eyes.

“No,” Clarke shakes her head. “I _am_ Skaikru. How far apart are the others?”

“A mile, maybe two,” another boy with short blonde hair answers. “Wait, are you Clarke?”

She doesn’t answer them, riding ahead as fast as her horse manages. Ten minutes later she finally, finally sees the long line of people stretching into the far distance and she forces herself to slow down, not wanting to waltz over people even though everything in her wants to go faster and faster and just find him. The people part in surprise when they see her, some of them recognizing her and calling her name. She would like to answer but then again, there is only one thing she really wants to do. The line stretches and stretches as she rides through them, searching their faces.

Then she spots Murphy who doesn’t even look surprised, just smug. “Well, well, look who has returned to prince charming.”

“Good to see you too,” she says and rolls her eyes. “Where is he?”

Murphy nudges his head into the direction in front of him. “Must be a couple of people away.”

Clarke gives him a grateful nod and pushes forward. She sees his back a minute later, tense and exhausted. He is walking next to a horse with Raven on it. Behind them are Miller and Monty and one of them, she isn’t sure who because her heart is beating too loud, lets out a surprised yelp upon seeing her.

Bellamy’s head whirls around and she feels her heart stopping. Their eyes find each other.

Clarke jumps off her horse, like in trance, and only stares for a moment before it all crashes down on her and she runs to him like she always meant to. He catches her with his arms around her waist and she laughs giddily before crashing down her lips on him. This time he doesn’t hesitate to kiss back. Her fingers tightly wrap around his hair and his neck and she just enjoys the feeling of him for a moment, before her smile gets too big and she pulls away, beaming.

“Clarke,” he breathes and blinks like he just woke up from a really vivid dream. “How - how are you here? What about your people, your mom?”

She smiles, touching his chest. “You are my people, Bellamy.”

x

  
The weeks that pass by as they wander across the land are definitely not easy. She is more used to long distances than the others so it takes her longer to wear out, but eventually even she feels the painful blisters on her feet and the spreading back pain that has eaten itself into her spine. It‘s just mindless walking at some point. But Clarke knows deep in her heart that what is awaiting for them is worth a thousand miles. Especially when she glances to her side and sees Bellamy rambling on about another Story of greek gods and helpless men that fascinates him.

Her heart swells every time she sees that goofy smile he oh so often tries to hide under his permanent frown. But she sees it and she loves it. And sometimes he turns around and blinks in surprise like he is still not used to her being here with him. That is when she lets her hand brush against his or bumps her shoulder into him, to remind him that she is here and will go nowhere in the near future.

Clarke hasn‘t told him yet. The whole trip is too mind clogging and public in her opinion so she wants to wait until they have something permanent.

Near the end, they lose two people: A boy that came with the Ark, and Harper. She wants to scream when they find out that it was because of a ruptured appendix. She is a healer, there are other healers and they all could have helped her if they had known, but they didn‘t. Harper went to sleep one night and never woke up. It leaves everyone, especially the hundred, quiet and heartbroken for days.

When they finally, finally reach their destination Clarke wants to yell with joy and then fall on the grass and sleep for the next ten days.

But first, work.

The lands stretches over miles and miles and it‘s mostly empty. Forests, rivers, meadows and some old beaten down houses and buildings. But there is one building that managed to withstand praimfaya, towering into the sky. It‘s not as big as the tower in Polis but equally breathtaking.

They settle their tents around it on the first night, most of them too tired to see if the inside is inhabitable. Clarke settles her sleeping mat on the grass and lies down to look at the stars, the place she came from.

„Hey.”

She angles her head backwards and sees Bellamy looming over her. A slow smile appears on her face. “Hey,” she says back, almost shyly.

“Doesn’t it get cold sleeping outside?” he asks her after sitting down next to her. She has been sharing a tent with Raven on the trip, but tonight she doesn’t care where she sleeps.

“No. The stars are beautiful,” she tells him and pats the grass beside her. “Lie down and see for yourself.”

He does.

“Pretty,” he agrees after a while.

“More than pretty.” She sighs, a long and content sigh. “We made it, Bellamy. I still can’t believe it.”

“The work has just begun, princess.”

“But we made it.”

x

 

The next morning Clarke awakens wrapped in a blanket that she doesn’t remember ever getting and Bellamy next to her. His lips are slightly parted in his sleep and he looks quite peaceful which makes her heart flutter inside her chest. When she left her mother and followed them here, she made herself a promise to tell Bellamy about her feelings and yet. It’s 3 weeks later and aside from the kiss she hasn’t told him nor did he ever address the subject. The time wasn’t right, she tells herself. After all, they were literally wandering across a land. There was no time for personal feelings.

Bellamy stirs, and after a few moments his eyes flutter open. His gaze jerks here and there at first, probably not knowing where he is but eventually it settles on her and he lets out a small smile. “Morning.”

“Hey,” she smiles back and tilts her head, looking at him. “Did you sleep well?”

“Well, could have been better. The ground is not exactly comfortable.” Sitting up, he gives the grass underneath him a funny glare, like he is angry at it for being so hard.

Clarke huffs out a laugh before looking ahead, at the building that is towering in front of them. “Then we should see if it has any beds for us, right?”

Most of their friends are already awake as well, equally excited to see what this lands has to offer besides… well, space and bedraggled houses. Overall, the entirety of Skaikru is up and about, though not quite sure what to do. It turns out that it’s harder than expected to start a life from the scratch. Sure, they have arrived, nobody is trying to kill them now, but what now?

Along with Miller, Monty, Raven and a few others Clarke and Bellamy organize a party to explore the intact building. It’s even bigger once they are up close, but it also seems to be very old.

There are letters on it, half of them faded, that say: **CAPITOL BUILDING.**

The inside is surprisingly beautiful. Don’t get her wrong, it has been clearly raided and ravaged over the years, and there are at least three inches layer of dust on every piece of furniture. But the walls, the floor and especially the windows in the main hall… it’s all a different type of material than what she is used to back at her village. It’s not wood, not even glass. The floor is shiny, full of colorful patterns. The windows resemble paintings, each showing beautiful pictures.

“I never thought I would see something like this,” Monty breathes out in awe as he looks around the huge room they are standing in. Next to him Miller nods before bumping his shoulders and the two of them exchanging smiles.

Clarke is somewhat scared to climb the stairs that lead to the higher floors since it doesn’t look very stable, but with a little convincing from Bellamy and Raven she agrees. Thankfully, she is wrong and the staircase does not break apart under their weight.

Upstairs they find more rooms, though they are different. These are smaller, not built for crowds but only a limited amount of people. Bellamy is pretty happy because they have beds which means no more sleeping on the ground. At least, for some people because not all of Skaikru will manage to fit in.

All in all, this building is definitely able to provide them with a roof over their heads for the time being, but they have to start building their own cabins. This is their home now.

The next few days are slow and tiring as they try to figure everything out. A group of people that is lead by Miller and his father is assigned to hunt in the woods so that they have food. Monty volunteers to find fertile soil to start their own agriculture. Raven affirms that the capitol building might have some useful resources so she spends her time fixing things and building other things from the ones she finds, at least that’s the easy version of it. And finally, Bellamy is the head of their building group that will work on building them their own homes.

Of course, there is more than that, but these are the most important sectors right now. Even though Clarke tries to help here and there, she focuses on establishing a healing station that is much needed since about fifteen people a day seek her out. It’s mostly constipation problems, or natural diseases, but there are a lot of injuries on the building site, too. With the help of Jackson and other volunteers, it’s manageable, though.

Despite all of this, she notices their people kind of separating into two camps. One, that consists of the hundred that came here first and the other being made up by the older people. It has already come to her attention that some of these adults issued… complaints. Apparently, Bellamy and her were too young, only children and not capable of leading an entire village set up. It’s not like they are officially leading them - there was never a ceremony - but it felt natural to take the lead in certain directions. And so far, Clarke thinks they have made a pretty damn good job at it because after only a week things are running pretty okay. And okay is really good these days.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Bellamy spits into the radio, a frustrated frown on his face. “No, I specifically asked you not to - yes, but that’s not what I meant. No, no, just - just leave it. I’ll deal with it tomorrow.” Placing the radio down with a loud sigh, he closes his eyes and scrubs a hand across his face, muttering, “Fucking Murphy.”

“Cut him some slack,” Clarke says with a soft smile, coming up behind him and rubbing his back. God, he has so much tension stashed in those muscles. “He didn’t even want to do this.”

“Yeah, but he was doing nothing all day long,” he retorts, turning around to face her.

“He tried to play that guitar a couple of times,” she reminds him, well aware that this is not the contribution they need right now. Bellamy still huffs out a laugh and nods.

“Yeah, he did that.”

“Cut you some slack then You have been working non stop since we arrived.”

“We have a lot to do.” Bellamy simply shrugs because of course he does, but she won’t let it slide this time. She has been trying to take a breath several times now, and he never listened but she won’t take no for an answer anymore.

“And I would prefer you to be alive at the end of the day,” Clarke tells him, holding his gaze. “You know that this… this is supposed to be our reward after surviving, right? It’s about more than that now. You have to live, Bellamy.” Her own words make her stomach clench anxiously as she is reminded of her promise to herself once again. The promise that she still hasn’t held because she never gets the opportunity with Bellamy only being focused on work. “Bellamy -”

“Fine,” he cuts in, holding up his hands in surrender. “I’ll take a break.”

“No, Bellamy, I -”

“I’m listening to you, okay? You don’t have to tell me anymore - “

“Bellamy.” Her voice gets so loud that he finally stops rambling and blinks at her.

“What?”

“I…” And suddenly the words are stuck in her throat. It’s not like this would be the best moment anyway to lay it all out there, but… sometimes she wonders if she is just too scared that this might be one sided. He kissed her back the two times and they shared some pretty intense moments with each other, but all of that happened at such turbulent times that Clarke can’t help but wonder if that’s all it was. Heat of the moment. Because Bellamy had the opportunity to say something as well which he never did.

He raises an expectant eyebrow, still waiting for her to say something and she lets out a sigh.

“Nothing. Just take a break, sleep dammit and don’t yell too much at your friends. They are still supposed to like you after the cabins are done.”

Before he can reply Clarke gives him a quick pat on the chest and slips out of their room. Yes, they share a room because it is efficient and allows more people to sleep in beds, not because they can hold each other again at night. (Although… it is a great comfort.)

Figuring some distraction would benefit her, she goes to the healing station where she finds Lincoln talking to Octavia who is sitting on one of their beds. Clarke approaches them with a worried frown. “Octavia are you okay?”

“Oh, yeah,” she answers and Clarke lets out a breath of relief. “I just wanted to check on Lincoln during my break.” Octavia is assigned to the hunting party that goes out every two days.

“Oh, ok. Anything new here?” she asks Lincoln over her shoulder as she sorts their tools into a relevance-based order so that they can grab the most useful instruments first.

“No. Just the boy with the disease, he was sick again.”

“Bones?”

“Yeah,” Lincoln says.

“Ugh, I told him not to work too much, especially in the summer heart,” she mutters with a sigh. Sometimes she wonders why people even bother visiting the healing station when they don’t take her advice anyway. Is it to feel better?

“Are you and Bell coming to the party tonight?” Octavia asks and she turns around, raising a brow.

“Is that what Monty and Jasper are calling it now? A party?” Yesterday they described it as a small get together with their friends, but it looks like the definition has expanded.

“You know how they are,” Octavia huffs. “Nothing says more Monty and Jasper than a small night with friends turning into a camp wide celebration.”

“Do they even have that much moonshine?” Lincoln wonders, brows drawn together.

Octavia rolls her eyes like the question is completely stupid. “It’s basically their second job, babe. Keep up.” Then she turns her attention back to Clarke. “So, you guys coming?”

“I will try to,” she says and shrugs. “I don’t know about Bellamy, but I will try to convince him. He could use some… fun.”

“Tell me about it.”

x

 “Remind me again what I’m doing here?”

Clarke stops in her tracks and turns to Bellamy to shoot him an exasperated look. “You are enjoying your night off,” she says and sweeps away a leaf that got stuck in his collar. “You told me you would take a break, didn’t you?”

“Which I did,” he huffs, his eyes wandering over the scene. There are a lot of people gathered around the campfire, some sitting on logs, on the ground and others standing in circles as they talk, drink and enjoy themselves for a night _as they should_. “I lied and did nothing the whole afternoon, but now I’m here even though I should be sleeping, Clarke.”

“You can do that afterwards. Now you can have some fun, though. You still remember what that is, right?”

He reacts to her challenging smirk with an over dramatic scoff. “Yeah, _I_ showed you what that is.”

“Now it’s the other way around,” she shrugs. “Come on, Bellamy. All you do is take care of other people, you need to relax once in a while, too.” When his expression remains uncertain, she grabs his arm and tugs him to their friends.

Some of them cheer when they spot Bellamy and Clarke heading towards them, already smiley and loud from the moonshine. The only one who makes a face is Murphy, muttering, “I’ll go before you start shouting at me again.” Clarke rolls her eyes at his melodramatic behavior and settles on the blanket next to Raven and Monty, while Bellamy goes to Jasper who is asking something.

“So,” Raven says, once she makes herself comfortable. “Any news?”

Clarke’s brows furrow as she sends her a questioning glance. “What do you mean?”

“You know, in the Bellamy department. What you two are doing in that room of yours?” Next to her Monty lets out a snort before mumbling an apology. “Have you two already... you know, fucked?”

“ _What?_ ” She didn’t mean to sound so offended by the question, but somehow it still comes out rather prim. “No, no, there’s no news.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Raven’s right,” Monty agrees with a nod.

Clarke glares at him. “You are one to talk about with your crush on Miller.”

“Hey,” he says, making a face. “I’m sensitive, you know.”

“I really don’t get the two of you,” Raven continues, looking really confused. “The whole time you were making eyes at each other, you played tongue dominion when you came back for _him_ and now? Nothin’?”

“I didn't just come back for him.” She has other friends here, too, that she loves. A lot.

“Yeah, and the earth’s not round and I’m not the smartest person here,” Raven scoffs.

„I told you,“ Clarke sighs. „It wasn‘t - it‘s not - “ She waves her hand, trying to find the right term that would describe:  _I initiated the kiss both times and even though he seemed to be into it he did not say or do anything that would indicate he is interested in a relationship of that nature with me and I do not want to pressure him into it because I am scared of losing my best friend._ Clearly, finding the right words is not in the stars for her so she gives up with a frustrated puff of breath.

Instead she looks over to the other side where Bellamy is, hoping to find some answers in him, but she finds him talking to a girl instead. She is blonde, pretty, and apparently has the ability to make him laugh.

“That’s Bree,” Monty says as if he is reading her thoughts, looking in the same direction. “She likes… fun.”

Rolling her eyes, she turns back around and tries to act normal. She _is_ normal. Bellamy can talk to whomever he wants to. Even if the girl likes to have fun as Monty says. Whatever.

“Here.” Raven offers her a cup with a sympathetic look and Clarke takes it without any protest and drinks it in one go.

Several cups of moonshine later she feels cheerful and carefree although she _does_ notice out of the corner of her eye that Bellamy is still talking to that Bree girl. Thankfully she finds someone that is able to distract her. Her name is Niylah and she was one of the Trikru members that decided to leave with Skaikru. Like her she is a healer, but she also has some pretty impressive drinking skills that shouldn’t be underestimated.

They talk about their old life in the alliance and how different it is here. But Clarke doesn’t fail to notice the girl’s eyes falling to her lips from time to time. It’s not like Clarke wants to get involved with someone else, but there is nothing wrong with a little fun right now, is it? After all, she isn’t the only having fun.

The somewhat bitter reminder of Bellamy makes her look across the campfire again and for a second their eyes meet. Bellamy drops his gaze though and even from afar she can see his jaw clench. Suddenly not feeling that cheerful anymore Clarke excuses herself and walks away. Not that far, just until all the noise quiets down a little and she feels like she can take a few deep breaths.

It’s stupid. She is stupid.

Clarke feels those things for the first time in her life so she doesn’t know how to deal with them. And sometimes they overwhelm her a little.

After some time alone she decides to go back, however not back to the party but to her room. She has to get up early the next day anyway and it’s not like anyone will notice. Clarke slips past the campfire and goes straight to the capitol building. Once in the room, she changes and immediately curls up in the big, fluffy bed.

Unfortunately, Bellamy comes back right after. She wonders if she should just pretend to be asleep but figures he would notice she is awake anyway. He fumbles around in the dark, and lights a candle.

“Oh thank god,” he breathes when he sees her and falls into bed next to her after placing the candle on his nightstand. “You’re here.”

“Where else would I be,” she mutters, not attempting to turn around to face him.

“I don’t know. Suddenly you were gone and I had no idea where you were. Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

Clarke shrugs under the covers even though he can’t see that.

“Wait.” He scoops closer to Clarke and kind of looms over her to look at her. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah?”

Silence. “Are you mad?”

“No,” she huffs and tries to sound convincing, fails miserably. Bellamy waits a second before touching her arm and prompting her to turn around.

“Then look at me and say you’re not mad.”

“Bellamy,” she whines. “Please leave me alone.” Right now she is simply not in the mood to play his games and make him feel better. All she wants to do is sleep and forget that her own feelings are too confusing.

With a sigh he lets himself fall back again. Maybe he actually listened and will let her sleep, she thinks, but then again. She can basically hear him thinking because it’s this loud, strained silence that fills the space between them.

“Is it…” he starts again after a long time and she sighs inwardly, “because I talked to that girl?” Fuck, is it that obvious? Clarke wants to say no, lie, but Bellamy continues. “You told me to have fun today, Clarke. It was you who said that, right? Because right now I am a little intoxicated and confused.”

“It’s not because of that,” Clarke eventually says into the silence. “Forget it, Bellamy.”

“I can’t just forget it. You are _mad_ \- “ He really emphasizes the word and it almost sounds funny. “- and I don’t want that. You are Clarke. I don't want you to be mad.”

At last she decides to turn around and face him. Once Bellamy notices what she is doing, he does the same so that in the end they are both facing each other on their sides.

“I was just -” she shrugs weakly. “- confused with myself. Still am.”

“Confused?” he echoes and Clarke nods. “What are you confused about?” He blinks at her before lifting his hand to tuck a piece of hair behind her air. Clarke lets her eyes fall closed at the soft gesture.

“About certain things.”

“What things?”

Clarke’s heart starts hammering in her chest as she looks at him and says, “Feelings… people. Those kind of things.”

If it affects Bellamy in some kind of way, he doesn’t show it. “And why are you confused about them?”

It feels like this is the point where things start to go blurry. Or, crystal clear. Clarke takes a deep breath before sitting up and drawing her legs towards her. She wishes they wouldn’t be doing this after moonshine, but here they are.

“How drunk are you?”

Bellamy frowns. “On a scale of one to ten… five.”

“I’m four,” she admits and lets out a sigh. Clarke looks at him, anxious. “Bellamy, we both know that there are things we never talked about.”

That makes him sit up as well as his expression shifts from blissful to… somewhat more serious. Maybe even nervous. “Clarke,” he says. And the dam breaks.

“If you only kissed me back because I surprised you both times, you can tell me,” she blurts out.

“What?” His frown deepens before he scoots a little closer. “What, no. I thought you - I thought it was a spur of the moment thing and that’s why…”

She gulps. “It was. I mean, yeah, but it only helped me to act on it. It had nothing to do with my feelings.”

“Your feelings?” he asks, carefully. Does she really need to spell it out for him?

“Bellamy. You know that I care about you, right?”

From the way he looks, he doesn’t. “I mean, yeah… you do?”

“Of course! I almost lost my damn mind when you were in that mountain, Bellamy. Do you know how it felt like not to know if I would ever see you again? It was bad. So bad.”

“Why would you,” he starts and gulps. “Why would you feel something like that because of me?”

“Shut up. Why wouldn’t I?”

The look Clarke receives is both heartbreaking and nerve-wrecking.

This time it’s not her who acts first. Bellamy takes a deep breath, moves forwards and suddenly his lips are on hers. Clarke is very surprised to say the least, but she shudders when she brings up her hands to his face and kisses him back. God, this is what happiness must feel like. He pulls away after a moment, not far, and rests his forehead against hers. “I care about you, too,” he murmurs.

Clarke lets out a laugh, suddenly feeling tears prickling at her eyes. “I thought I overwhelmed you back then. And that you weren’t… weren’t feeling the same.”

He moves his face to look at her, smiling and shaking his head. “I do feel the same, Clarke. You are so, so important to me.”

“Really?”

“Yes,” he nods and just because he kisses her again, a little more firmer, more persistent this time and Clarke lets herself get lost in him. His tongue circles her lips and she opens up for him, swallows her own doubts that she had in them. God, they were so damn stupid.

"So... you don't regret it?" he asks her the same night, fingertips tracing circles on the skin of her shoulders. Clarke's brows furrow as she glances at him. 

"Regret what?"

"That you left your entire family there. I mean, your clan. You rebelled for us, got banished and left them again. And then you left your mom."

Her lips press into a line as she thinks about the question. Not that she doesn't know the answer, it's only difficult to phrase it. "My clan... my clan was always Lincoln," Clarke eventually says. "And Lincoln's here with me. It wasn't easy to leave my mother, but in the end even she said that she doesn't want that for me. I love her, I'm so grateful that she is alive, but I belong here. With you." The corners of Bellamy's mouth curl upwards and it makes her smile, too. "So no. I don't regret it. I will never regret this love."

x

 

“Drink this tea every morning and before you go to bed. Also, try to eat a lot of fruit and vegetables, less meat. And take a break from work.” The boy, who doesn’t look look much older than sixteen, nods slowly. Bones, his name is, or at least his last name but a lot of people seem to go by their last name nowadays. Clarke crosses her arm in front of her chest, arching a brow as she sees through his lie. “You won’t stop working, will you?”

“I can’t miss out any longer! I’ve been sick, like, five times already and always have to watch all the others do work while I sit on my ass!”

“That’s because you have a disease that makes you prone to get sick a lot,” she explains, pressing her lips together. “It sucks but you have to take care of yourself first.”

“But -”

“No buts. I will talk to Bellamy.” With that she sends him off, hoping that he will actually listen to her this time. These kids here will kill her one day.

Clarke keeps her promise and finds Bellamy in her break, spotting him on the building site as he leans against a hut. The summer sun is at its highest, making him squint in the light and she thinks it looks kind of funny. A little like an adorable old man.

“Enjoying the view?” she jokes and he looks at her.

“Why, yes, very much.” Bellamy reaches for her hands and pulls her closer to him until he can bend down and kiss her. A long sigh escapes him as she cups his cheek. This is one of the good, content sighs which she has come to appreciate. “By next week we will have three more,” Bellamy tells her after pulling back, eyes crinkling around the edges because he is clearly proud of it. “We’re coming along pretty good.”

“I never doubted you will,” she says and shoots him a smile that he returns. Then she remembers why she actually came here, even if showing Bellamy her appreciation is very fun. “I need you to resign Bones. He is not healthy enough to work as hard as he does.”

“That bad?” There is a familiar glint of concern in his eyes, always worrying about his children.

“Not good,” she says but pats his cheek. “But don’t worry. If you stop him from working, he will survive.”

He softly swats her hand away with a laugh, but his hand remains lingering on hers, thumb stroking her skin. “If you say so, doctor.”

“I say so,” she murmurs and pulls him in for another kiss.

All of a sudden someone clears their throat behind them and they jump apart. The last few days with Bellamy were… amazing, but so far they have refrained from telling anyone. That doesn’t seem to be necessary anymore though as it's Octavia who is looking at them with a pointed grin on her face.

“Now that’s something I thought I’d never see.”

“Shut up, O’,” Bellamy barks, no real heat behind his words.

“Anyway while you are finally doing the thing you should have been doing weeks ago, I came to tell you that one of the cows escaped. Milky.”

And that’s how Octavia finds out that.

After that it doesn’t take long until the others catch on as well. Raven catches them kissing in the hallway of the capitol and tells Monty who tells Miller. Murphy claims he has known all along, and Lincoln one day just gives her that smile which means he knows too. At some point everyone just knows. But Clarke doesn’t mind because it means that she can give him a kiss in front of everyone without feelings strange, and that she can hold his hand when they go the dining hall together, and it means Bellamy can wraps his arms around her waist on those moonshine evenings and murmur inappropriate things into her ear. Clarke isn’t complaining, at all.

Life is good for once.

   
x

  
She doesn’t notice someone sitting down next to her at mass until the person clears their throat. Moving her head, she looks at Wells. They didn’t have a chance to talk ever since he came back from the Mountain.

“You know,” he starts, throwing her a indistinguishable look. “I know now why you looked so familiar.”

Clarke raises a brow.

“You came from the Ark as well, you and your mother.”

It’s still startling to hear people talking about her origin like it’s something random - which it has become by now - even though it shook her entire world a few months ago. But she nods, hesitant where he is going with it. “I did."

“When I was younger I had this friend. Blonde, blue eyes, smart as hell and just as sassy.” She blinks at him, not sure what he expects to get as an reply. “Her name was Clarke Griffin.”

For a moment she is too stunned to say anything, instead she just gapes blankly at him. “Clarke… Griffin?” she eventually echoes.

“Yes. To be honest I don’t remember much about her because I was very young and one day she disappeared. One second we were playing chess, next she was gone forever, until -”

“Until now,” she finishes for him and exhales. “It was me. We were friends up there?”

“I’m not gonna be offended that you don’t remember, but yeah. We were. Best friends.”

Gulping, she looks at him. “I - I’m sorry, I don’t have much memories of the sky or - or the -”

“Hey, it was a joke,” Wells says with a grin, elbowing her lightly and she lets out a small laugh. “I wouldn’t have known either if I hadn’t found about where you came from - really came from.”

He tells her about the things he still remembers about her, or about them together. Like when they tried to break in the library on the Ark which was apparently super illegal for whatever reason, or that time they watched a comet pass the earth. Clarke isn’t sure if she also remembers or if it’s just his stories but she thinks that she can remember their little hands clasped together as they ran across metallic grey hallways.

After some time Wells tells her has to return to work but that he would like to catch up more and rekindle their friendship sometime and she agrees wholeheartedly.

“Can I… hug you?” he asks before standing up, giving her a sheepish smile. Clarke nods, grinning and closes her eyes when he does. It feels like she is winning back parts of her past that she was denied most of her life, and it feels good.

Shortly after Wells trots out of the mass hall, Bellamy and Raven join her table.

“What was that about?” Bellamy asks her, brows furrowed and she frowns back.

“What was what about?”

“You hugged Wells.”

Raven lets out a low, “Uh, someone’s jealous,” besides them but they both ignore her.

“Oh. Apparently we share history,” she says nonchalantly and shrugs. “When I still lived in the sky.”

“History? As in -”

“Ew, Bellamy,” Raven cuts him off, punching his shoulder. “Clarke was like three years old!”

“I think I was four,” Clarke clarifies with a straight face, not sure what the fuss is about. “Wells and I were best friends. And my name - whole name is Clarke Griffin.”

Raven almost lets her fork drop as she stares at her. “What? You were the griffin kid?” Clarke frowns but nods slowly.

“Oh my god, dude! There were so much rumors about what happened to your family. I heard they floated your parents and put you in lock up but others said you were all murdered or something. There were like whole conspiracy theories about you.”

It’s so much information about her past that she has to stop eating and swallow first. Apparently Bellamy notices the shift in her mood and shoots Raven a look - that is not needed, by the way. “Stop harassing her about the Ark, Reyes,” he says and stabs his fork into the cake on his plate before reaching it across the table. “Here, eat. It’s the cake that you love so much.”

“Yeah, just feed her because that’s healthy,” Raven mutters with an eye roll.

Clarke clears her throat, gently shoving Bellamy’s hand away and trying to look frightening. They should not forget that she was half raised as an warrior the past fourteen years and that she is not as fragile as she might look. “I am fine, guys.”

“But the cake,” Bellamy protests, and she wants to roll her eyes when she looks at it and realizes that is indeed the ones she adores. With a sheepish look she opens her mouth and Bellamy feeds her the cake with a contempt grin on his face. “And you doubted me.”

“I gotta go help with the radios,” Raven says, pushing her chair behind. “You guys be… you, or whatever.”

 

x

  
The swords screech when they clash together. Clarke’s teeth bare as she pushes against Lincoln, trying to hold him off long enough before striking again. He gets to it first, withdrawing in an adept manner and spinning around. Stumbling forward, it cuts into the skin of the arm. Clarke grunts and kicks his shin, but again Lincoln is faster and she ends up on her ass.

“I hate you,” she sighs and lets her head fall back.

She is pretty sure Lincoln is smirking as he replies, “Don’t be a sour loser.”

The hand that she is being offered doesn’t belong to Lincoln, though. It’s Bellamy. She accepts it and lets him haul her up, hissing a little because of her new wound.

“Shit, sorry. Did I hurt you?”

“No,” she says, nudging her head towards the wound. “Just a scratch from the fight.” Bellamy’s gaze snaps to it and his hand wraps around the skin beneath it. „It‘s not that bad.“

„Are you sure? You should let it get checked out anyway.“

„It‘s fine,“ Clarke assures him, a smile in her voice when she pokes his chin. „I would rather watch you get your ass kicked by your sister.“

„Rude.“

She gives him a peck on the lips before pointing him forward „Go.“

She sits down next to Raven on the bench as Bellamy and Octavia step into the fighting ring, watches him bicker with his sister. Lincoln joins her side a few moments later.

„Hey, you okay?“

Clarke rolls his eyes but shoots him a grin. „You cut my arm, don‘t let it get to your head.“

“I’m sure you will retaliate next time,” he huffs and elbows her in the ribs which she reciprocates.

“I will!”

Before the elbowing can escalate, she points to the two siblings about to tackle each other and tells Lincoln to shut up (even though he isn’t saying anything).

Octavia slowly shrugs off her jacket, leaving her only in a tight tank top. Clarke sees Bellamy’s mouth curl into a smug smirk before he easily slips out of his shirt and gives his sister a shrug when she shoots him confused look.

“Equality, sis.”

“Equality would be me fighting you topless,” she retorts.

Bellamy groans, covering his eyes for a brief moment but Clarke realizes that is exactly what Octavia waited for. She lunges out and he barely manages to duck, leaving him little time to prepare for her next strike. Their manner of fighting is fast, aggressive and ruthless unlike Clarke and Lincoln who were trained to use things to their advantage, act like a strategist. Octavia has improved a lot due to her training with Indra, so did Bellamy of course but they still have a lot to learn.

“Huh, my girl is winning against your man,” Lincoln murmurs with a smile, watching his partner dodge several hits. Despite his light tone, Clarke scrunches up her nose and raises her chin.

“Apologies that my man was saving our entire people while yours was having a crash course in combat.”

Lincoln shuts up and she tries to focus on the fight again which works. She focuses. Especially on Bellamy. But not quite in the way she intended to because now she is thinking about all sorts of other things.

The way he moves, focused and effortlessly, and the way the skin on his arms glisten because of the droplets of sweat that have built all over his body. It does things to Clarke; inappropriate things. She feels exactly the same as she did when they were washing themselves in the river and her eyes wandered over his body and…

“Stop thirsting after your man, Clarke,” Raven’s voice suddenly cuts into her head and she almost jerks. “Your look’s not PG13 rated.”

Clarke tilts her head as she looks at her. “I didn’t understand a single word of that sentence, Raven.”

“Be glad,” Murphy chimes, suddenly standing behind them. “You’re too innocent for what she said.”

“I’m not innocent. I killed people.”

“Yeah, but did you...?” He trails off, not having to finish to hint at that. Yeah, sex. It's somehow not only public that she is with Bellamy, but that they haven't consummated their relationship yet. It has been a few weeks, and Clarke wants to. Of course she does, but for some reason they haven't slept with each other yet and she can't help but wonder why. Does he not find her attractive? Because she does, Bellamy is really attractive. Very attractive. And she has heard stories of his first days on the ground from her friends, that he liked to... sleep with a lot of girls. So why hasn't he slept with her?

Point taken. Clarke rolls her eyes and returns her gaze to Bellamy again who manages to trip his sister up and throw her on her back. Winning.

Most of them have work to get back to so they scramble out. 

She helps Murphy pick up some stuff when Bellamy joins to help out too.

„I‘m surprised Octavia didn‘t kick your ass,“ Murphy remarks.

„Well, let‘s find out how. You wanna fight?“

Clarke snorts as she picks up a box with knives.

„No, thank you.“

„Then shut up, Murphy.“

Murphy rolls his eyes, but mutters a „Tell your husband to chill“ before stalking off. She sends him an exasperated look. „Can‘t you just be nice to him?“

„That was me being nice.“ He picks up the stuff as well before raising his brows. „Where to with these?“

„Main hall.“

They walk there side by side in a comfortable silence, Clarke mentally going through the list of things to do in the next few days.

“Don’t you have a day off today?” Bellamy suddenly asks her and she casts a glance at him from the side.

“I do actually.”

“So what are your plans?”

“I need a bath.” Raven and few others are working on installing them so called showers around here, but with all the things that need to be done, showers have to wait for some more time.

“I could use one as well,” he mutters, after pulling the collar of his shirt to his nose and sniffing. Clarke chuckles. To her Bellamy always smells good, whether it has been days of running and fighting, dirt and blood grazing every inch of his body.

She doesn’t even think about it before suggesting, “You can come along.”

“I don’t know,“ he says, scratching his head. „I should have helped Kane with some things. Five Minutes ago, actually.“

„Well I can wait for you.“

"You would?" he asks her like that's the greatest sacrifice one could make. 

"Sure."

So she waits for him, talking to some of her patients that see her in the meanwhile. Soon enough he returns and they both make their way to the nearest river that isn't really far away from their camp. 

When they arrive Clarke is suddenly unsure whether she should lose all her clothes or remain in her underwear. A few months ago she didn't have a problem with Bellamy seeing her naked, but now it's suddenly far more intimate. Too nervous, she leaves her undergarments on when she steps into the river and enjoys the cold water on her skin. Bellamy steps in a moment later. 

"Weren't you all about nudity not long ago?" he asks, throwing her a look that she can only interpret as mischievous.

She turns around to him and raises her brow. "I recall you saying it made you uncomfortable.“

"You know, I wouldn't be uncomfortable with it now." 

It feels like the air between them buzzes with electricity as they regard one another. Clarke takes a breath and steps closer, her hand landing a little beneath his chest. „Oh, aren‘t you now?“

“Yeah,“ Bellamy murmurs before cupping her face and crashing his lips down on hers in a bruising kiss. Clarke responds eagerly, pushing herself closer until her body is pressed against his. She lets out a low moan when his tongue sneaks into her mouth, circling her own. 

„Fuck,“ he breathes after pulling back a little. „As much as I like to do this, I really need a bath, Clarke.“

She smiles despite the desire to continue kissing him. „Come on.“ Grabbing the soap she brought along, she gives him one, too and starts scrubbing at her skin. 

„Wait.“ He grabs her hands and looks at her. „Let me.“ 

Bellamy tucks her hair on one side and starts scrubbing at the skin on her shoulders, his movements soft and slow. It feels better than just a bath, more intimate and she releases a breathy sigh.   When her shoulder blades and neck are soaped in, she closes her eyes and reaches behind her to unclasp the bra she is wearing. Her hands are probably shaking because moments later she feels Bellamy help her along until it falls in the water. 

„You alright?“ he asks, his fingertips tracing a soft pattern into her skin. 

„More than that.“

There is a puff of breath against her skin before she feels Bellamy press a soft kiss on her shoulder blade. And then another. And another.

She lets herself lean back into him as he continues to press his lips against the skin on her shoulders, the spot between her shoulder and neck and eventually her neck which makes her let out another moan. „Touch me,“ she says. Clarke feels him nod against her and then his hands wrap around her waist, sneaking upwards to her breasts. His fingers circle around her nipples, flick them while he keeps kissing her neck, eliciting a sharp gasp from her. 

Too worked up to bear it anymore she finally turns around and presses her lips against him, her arms coming around his neck. God, the way his lips slide against her, the way his chest feels bare against her breasts and - fuck, just everything. „You‘re still not washed up,“ she mumbles against his lips before pulling him deeper into the water until they are chest deep.

„You saying I‘m dirty?“

Clarke huffs. She has learnt the other meaning of dirty - one of the many advantages of being friends with Raven. „Not dirty enough.“ Copying his earlier moves she places her lips on his neck and kisses him ever so softly. When she feels him shudder, she nibbles lightly until his grip on her waist tightens and she pulls away smirking. „Why are you holding back all this time, Bell?“

“I‘m -“ he halts, his eyes pointedly lingering on her face.

„You can look at me, you know,“ Clarke presses, making a show of stroking a finger against her left breast and placing it on his chest. „You are with me. You don‘t have to be a gentleman anymore.“

Bellamy presses his eyes shut, like he is almost in pain before kissing her, firm and hot and leaving her wanting more when he draws away. „Because,“ he finally says. „If I look at you like that, I won‘t be able to look away again. I mean -" he gestures to her body and for a moment his gaze falls on her breasts, pupils widening and he swears. „- fuck. Look at you, Clarke. You‘re so fucking gorgeous.“

“Then don‘t stop.“

“But - but you‘re -" His hand flaps around wildly as he searches for words and she raises a brow.

„I‘m what? A virgin?“

He lets out a sigh. „Yeah. I don‘t wanna push you to do something you‘re not ready to do.“

“Bellamy,“ Clarke murmurs, and smiles because _of course_ that‘s the reason. „You‘re not pushing me to do anything -" She bends her head down to kiss his neck again. "- that I don‘t wanna do.“ She kisses his collarbone. „I _want_ you.“ She kisses his chin. „And if you want me too -" She kisses the corner of his mouth. „- then I don‘t see where the problem is.“ 

The next time she wants to move he catches her lips though and kisses her. Bellamy surprises her by lifting her up and swaying around with her as she laughs, her arms around his neck. 

"I'm so lucky to have you," he tells her in-between kisses, crowding her against the riverside. "You're my girl."

"Your girl," she nods, excitement building in her belly as his hands wander around her body, setting fire to every nerve inside her. There are a couple of flat stones at the edge of the river that look like the perfect seating opportunity. She plops down on the stone and laughs when Bellamy wedges himself between her knees, smacking a kiss to to her wet belly. Her hands come up to his head, running through the wet strands of hair.

“Bellamy,” she giggles but his teasing kisses turn to sucks until her laughter becomes a moan. “Should- should we really be doing this here?”

“Why not?” he murmurs into the skin above her navel, his lips so soft that she wants to cry. Clarke lets out a happy sigh.

“Anyone could see us,” she stutters. 

Instead of listening to her Bellamy decides to spread her thighs and leans down to her crotch, his breath making sparks fly in her belly. “Do you really want me to stop now?”

The rational part of her brain tells her to stop. They’re outside, and like she said anyone could walk by and witness them fucking. But that rational part of her brain is fogged by Bellamy’s nose tickling her core through the material of her underwear and just - fuck it. She wants him.

“Fuck,” she curses, wiggling the cloth off. “No, no I don’t. Please, I need you.”

“Your wish is my command,” he smirks and finally places his mouth on her cunt, licking up the slit while his hands hold her legs apart. She lets out a breathy moan, hands tangling in his hair for support. His tongue swirls around her clit, the place that she wants it most and her whole body arches right into him, closer, closer to his mouth and tongue and lips.

“You taste so good,” he murmurs into her and closes his lips around her clit eliciting a loud groan from her. “So good and so nice.”

“Uh,” Clarke breathes. 

"You like it? You like me eating you out babe?" His dirty conversation would be amusing if she wasn't so goddamn needy for him right now. Bellamy's lips close around her clit, sucking lightly and her hips arch right into him, searching for the friction she so desperately wants.

“I’m - I’m so close,” she pants, holding on for dear life as he eats her out, his tongue lapping at her lips and clit. “Fuck, fuck -“

“Come for me, princess,” he says and sucks on her clit one more time and she does, crying out with trembling legs until she pushes him away because it gets too much.

“Oh my god,” she breathes. “Bellamy that was -“

“Yeah,” he nods, grinning against her leg where he is leaning on. She notices his erection that is sticking out of the water and smirks down at him. “Do you need _a hand_ as well?”

“You don’t have to -“

“I want to,” she says and leans down to kiss him, long and deep. He sighs into her mouth, his hands wandering around her naked body, flicking her nipple. Clarke jumps off the stone and manages to turn them around so that Bellamy is the one pushed against the edge. Sneaking her hand into the waistband of his boxers, she kisses and nibbles at his throat. Clarke wraps her hand around his length and starts jerking him off, Bellamy managing to lose his boxers in the process. He releases a hiss into her neck before letting his head fall against the stone, eyes closed in bliss. It doesn't take long until his hips stutter and she feels him come. 

They slump into each other, bodies hot and sweaty but Clarke doesn't think she has ever felt so free in her entire life. "Bellamy," she murmurs, her fingertips roaming his chest. He looks down at her, eyelids fluttering. It reminds her again how handsome he is and she has to stifle the urge to jump him all over again. "Don't hold back on me anymore, ok? I want you, all of you and you should never doubt that."

He is silent for a couple of moments, hand lazily rubbing up and down her back before he presses a kiss to her head and says, "I want all of you, too, Clarke."

x

Clarke wiggles into her pants and huffs out a puff off breath. All those festivities in the last weeks have made her put on some weight and even though she prefers to be curvier and stronger, the pants have become tighter and that sucks. With a sigh she lets herself fall back on the bed, staring at the ceiling of the room.

„Shouldn't you be getting ready?“

„But that‘s what I‘m doing,“ she says and doesn‘t move to sit up when Bellamy‘s face appears in front of her, an adorable smile on his face.

„Doesn‘t look like it, babe. Come on.“ He offers her his hand and although Clarke takes it she doesn‘t get up, instead pulls him towards her so that Bellamy is standing between her knees.

„I like our bed,“ she murmurs and draws him into a brief kiss. „Is that so wrong?“

„Not at all,“ Bellamy says before kissing her again, longer this time. His thumb swipes across her cheek but much to her dismay he pulls away. „But people are already waiting.“

Clarke shrugs and hugs his waist, pulling him down with her as she falls back on the bed and they end up a laughing, tangled mess. „Let them wait. I‘d rather be here with you.“

„You‘re right, me too.“ Cupping her face Bellamy kisses her, tongue sneaking into her mouth, his body flush against her. Her hips rock up into him when he presses his knee against her crotch, searching for friction. He swallows the moan she releases and roams his hand around her body. Six years with him and they still can't get enough of each other.

„Ahem, you horny teenagers,” suddenly comes from behind them and Bellamy lets his head fall down on her chest with a disappointed groan. “They are waiting.” Clarke sighs, rubbing the back of his neck.

„We‘re coming,“ she says.

Even from the corner of her eyes Raven doesn‘t look so convinced but she gives something like a nod. „But no quickie you guys. Seriously.“

They remain simply lying on the bed for a moment, both disappointed that they can‘t continue and too lazy to get up at the same time. Eventually she does, though, pulling Bellamy with her.

„This is all your fault,“ Bellamy mutters as he gets up.

„I know,“ she says and tries to look apologetically. „Wait, let me fix your hair before we go out.“ She reaches up on her toes and combs through the mess of his hair on his head, trying to make it less sex-hair and more usual-Bellamy-hair. There is no real difference in the end.

„Thanks babe,“ he smiles, though and pecks her on the lips before they leave their house and walk across the valley to their main gates.

Clarke frowns when she sees that Raven lied. The Commander and the other people haven‘t even arrived yet. Bellamy and her could have easily squeezed in a quickie.

„You‘re a mean cock-block,“ Clarke tells her quietly as she comes to stand next to her.

„Yeah, yeah. Knowing you, you would have fucked for the next hour.“

“That’s not -” she starts but cuts herself off because it’s a lie and she knows it. “- false.” That earns her a told-you-look from Raven so she shuts up and settles next to her and Bellamy.

Leaning down to her ear Bellamy murmurs, “We should finish that later.” Clarke raises her eyes to him and smirks, hoping that this is answer enough. Their eye contact doesn’t last long though because an air horn chimes and their gates open to let the people in. Clarke watches patiently as Lexa and a few of her people rides in, followed by another group of people that is relatively new to all of them. They arrived by ship on the Commander’s territory a couple of months ago and now all of them are trying to work out the alliances.

The negotiations are incredibly boring and long, and most of the time Clarke gets lost in thought only to be pulled back by Bellamy’s hand on her thigh or his soft grin as he elbows her. She doesn’t know what she would be doing if she hadn’t him by her side.

Thankfully, after the talk is over their new achievements in negotiating trade deals must be celebrated. “It’s a must,” as Jasper likes to say.

So she finds herself leaning on Bellamy as they sit around the campfire and try Monty’s newest moonshine formula - that is surprisingly good, by the way. Booze makes her tired pretty quick but that’s exactly why Bellamy is such a great human pillow.

“You wanna go home?” he asks her at some point and places a kiss on her forehead. Even though she yawns, Clarke shakes her head and cuddles closer to him.

“Not yet. Our friends are here.”

“Okay.”

Octavia and Lincoln join them later on, showing off Octavia’s huge baby bump while simultaneously complaining that she can’t train in her current state. She does that a lot - complaining - but everyone around the camp has got used to it by now. Blake mood swings are something to be cautious of although Clarke likes to think she can manage Bellamy’s pretty good. Even on their harder days.

Of course Lexa makes an appearance too, never one to miss out on drinking. She annoys Bellamy until he gives in and they play one of their annual arm wrestling matches. Poor Wells tries, too, but loses miserably which Raven tries to fix with a few kisses and a cup of moonshine.

When she closes her eyes and rests her head on Bellamy’s arm, she can still feel him toying around with the bracelet on her hand. Clarke’s mother gave it to her on her first visit back then, and every time Clarke misses her she only has to look down at her wrist and realize that she is always with her. Abby tries to come every six months, sometimes it’s longer than that and other years her visits are more frequent. The main thing is that she is alive and well whether she is at their camp or in Mount Weather.

Clarke stifles another yawn but Bellamy notices anyway, his look almost scolding. “Are you sure you don’t wanna go home and sleep?”

“Bell,” she mumbles and presses a kiss to his arm. “My home is wherever you are.”

“That’s sweet,” he huffs but Clarke can see the hint of fondness in his eyes. Sometimes she says something, usually something nice about him, and it surprises him. It’s both adorable and frustrating because by now he should know that she thinks the world of him.

Sparing him the awkwardness, she clings around his neck and laughs softly. “But yeah, take me to our cabin. I want to sleep - with you.” Bellamy grins as he places his arms under her knees and around her waist, picking her up bridal style.

“Anything you wish, princess.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. I realize that this is a monster of a chapter and I should have taken my own advice and just split it up but I was too stubborn. And I wanted to finish this fic. As much as I loved writing it, I had to overcome a totally frustrating writer's block in the end run and it was, yeah, frustrating. I hope you still like this final chapter! It was a fun ride and also my very first canon fic which was exciting but admittedly harder to write than modern AUs. I don't think it will be my last, though. 
> 
> Side note: this is probably not the best time to post this because everybody's still freaking out over that 5x03 ending. I am, too. I have died ten times since the episode aired and I just... this goddamn ship is too much for my heart sometimes. Anyway. I don't care about the timing, I wanted to post this now! THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO COMMENTED AND MOTIVATED ME TO WRITE MORE AND JUST ALL THE NICE PEOPLE THAT READ THIS THING <3 YOU ARE THE BEST!!!!

**Author's Note:**

> I started this fic like a year ago and then abandoned it like the piece of shit I am but a few weeks ago inspiration hit me and I really wanted to write it down. So here we are. The second chapter is already written, working on three and four. So in case you're afraid of reading WIPs, fear not my friend I shall not disappoint you!
> 
> If you enjoyed this or want to tell me something, make sure to leave a comment or hit me up on [tumblr](http://iseeyoou.tumblr.com/) and cry with me about blorke :/


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